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PEACE FLED DOWN THE QUIET SUNDAY STKEET, 
LEAVING THE FAMILY HANGING IN OPEN- 
MOUTHED AMAZEMENT OVER THE 

PICKET FENCE. (Page 284.) 


HEART of GOLD 


BY 

RUTH ALBERTA BROWN 

n 

Author of “At the Little Brown House,’’ “The 
Lilac Lady,” “Tabitha at Ivy Hall,” 
“Tabitha’s Vacation,” “Tabitha’s 
Glory,” Etc. 


ILLUSTRATED BY 

FRANCES BRUNDAGE 


THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY 
CHICAGO AKRON, OHIO NEW YORK 



CoprBiQHt^ 1915 
By 

THE SAALFIELD PUBU3H1NG COMPANY 



MAR 26 1915 

©CI,A397286 


To Edith E. White 

whose heart of gold has endeared 
her to all her ‘‘patients/’ this 
volume is aifectionately dedicated. 


( 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

L The Girl Who Took a Dare 9 

EL The Scrap-Book Brigade 29 

IIL Gussie’s New Play 45 

IV. Peace Learns The Bitter Truth 53 

V. The Lilac Lady’s Message 63 

VI. The Parsonage Twins 81 

VII. An Endless Chain of Letters 97 

Vin. Allee’s Album 113 

IX. Peace Interviews The Bishop 127 

. X. The New Pastor of South Avenue Church . 141 

XI. Doctor Dick 155 

XII. Miss Wayne 165 

Xin. The Little Author Lady 181 

XIV. Keturah And Billy Bolee 199 

XV. The Ring That Built A Hospital .... 211 

XVI. Peace Discovers Some Secrets 225 

XVII. A Hospital Wedding 235 

XVm. The Seven McGees 253 

XIX. Wonderful Tidings 275 



Heart of Gold 


CHAPTER I 

THE GIRL WHO TOOK A DARE 

^‘Attention, children! Close copy books and 
pass them to the right. Monitors, collect.’’ 

Tired Miss Phelps laid down her crayon, with 
one sweep of her arm erased the letter exercises 
she had so laboriously traced on the blackboard 
for her fifty pupils to copy, wiped the clinging 
chalk from her dry, chapped hands, and sank 
wearily into her chair beside the littered desk, 
as she issued her commands in sharp, almost im- 
patient tones. Her head ached fiercely, her brain 
seemed on fire, the subdued scratching of scores 
of pens in unskilled fingers set her nerves on edge, 
and she was ready to collapse with the strain of 
the day. Yet another hour remained before the 
afternoon session would draw to a close. How 
was she ever to hear the stupid geography recita- 
tion, or listen to the halting, singsong voices 
stumble through pages of a Header too old for 
their understanding? 

Again she glanced at the clock. A full hour of 
torture, and she was simply longing for bed! A 
sudden determination seized her. She would read 
to her scholars instead of listening to the lessons 


9 


10 


HEART OP GOLD 


they had prepared to recite! So, selecting a book 
from the row on her desk, she waited until the 
blotted, inky copy books had been gleefully 
whisked shut by their owners, passed across the 
aisle and gathered in neat piles by the monitors, 
who creaked solemnly up to the corner table and 
laid them beside the day^s written exercises for 
the teacher’s inspection later. Then they clat- 
tered back to their seats and waited with ex- 
pectant eyes fixed upon Miss Phelps for the next 
command. 

“Take rest position!” 

There was a brisk scraping of feet, a rustling 
of dresses, and fifty active bodies sat stiffly erect 
with hands clasped on the desk-tops in front of 
them. No, — not fifty. One child, a brown-eyed 
girl with short, riotous curls tumbling about her 
round, animated face, sat heedless of her sur- 
roundings, staring out of the window near her 
into the bright Spring sunshine, and from her 
rapt expression it was evident that her thoughts 
were far away from school and lessons. 

Miss Phelps waited an instant, but the child was 
lost in her dreams and did not feel the unusual 
silence of the room. Following the gaze of the 
intent brown eyes, the teacher glanced out of the 
window and saw a flock of pigeons disporting 
themselves on the barn roof across the road; and 
as they fluttered and strutted, scolded and cooed, 
the little watcher at her desk unconsciously im- 
itated their movements, thrusting out her chest, 
cocking her head pertly on one side and nodding 


HEART OP GOLD 


11 


and pecking at imaginary birds, just as her pretty 
feathered friends were doing as they basked in 
the warm sunshine. Involuntarily the woman 
smiled. Then, as the girl continued to mimic the 
doves, she tapped her foot impatiently on the floor 
and repeated emphatically, ‘‘Children, take rest 
position ! ’ ’ 

Stealthily the other pupils let their eyes rove 
about the room in search of the guilty member, 
for it was very plain from the teacher’s manner 
that someone was out of order. Instantly a pencil 
rapped sharply on the desk, and forty-nine pair 
of inquisitive eyes jerked quickly to the front 
again. But the fiftieth pair continued to stare out 
of the window, until in exasperation the woman’s 
voice rasped out, “Peace Greenfield, will you 
please give me your undivided attention?” 

With a start of horrified surprise the culprit 
awoke from her daydreams, to discover that she 
was flapping her outstretched arms in either aisle 
like some exultant cockerel just ready to crow. 
Abashed and dismayed at having been caught 
napping, she thrust her hands hastily into her 
desk, seized her geography, and scrambling to her 
feet, started for the front of the room, remember- 
ing that her class was the next to recite. The chil- 
dren tittered, and Peace, much amazed to find that 
no one followed, paused uncertainly, searched her 
brain desperately to recall the teacher’s command, 
and then glibly recited, “Brazil is bounded on the 
north by — ” 

The scholars burst into a howl of derision, and 


12 


HEART OF GOLD 


poor Peace slumped into her seat, covered with 
confusion. Even the tired teacher smiled at the 
child’s discomfort, hut immediately rapped for 
order, and said sternly, ‘‘Rest position, please! 
The geography and reading classes will not recite 
this afternoon. I shall read to you from our book 
of mythology, and when I have finished, I shall 
expect you to repeat the story. What was the last 
we read about?” 

“The wooden horse in the siege of Troy,” 
shouted a score of voices. 

“Correct,” smiled the teacher faintly. “And 
today I shall tell you about Ganymede and how he 
was connected with the other characters we have 
been studying. Ganymede — repeat the name after 
me.” 

“Ganymede,” roared the obedient scholars. 

“Ganymede,” whispered Peace to herself. 
‘ ‘ Ganymede — what a funny name ! I wonder if he 
was any relation to those folks Hope was talking 
about last night. They were Medes and — and 
Persians. I d’clare, I ’most forgot that word. 
Hist’ry like Hope’s must be int ’resting. I’ll be 
glad when I get big enough to study about the 
Golfs and Salts and — and Sandals and the rest of 
that bunch. ’ ’ She meant Goths and Celts and Van- 
dals, but somehow words had a bad habit of get- 
ting sadly mixed up in that active brain which 
tried to absorb all it heard; and she was always 
making outrageous speeches in consequence. 

“I don’t like mythology. What do we care 
about Herc’les and his sore heel, or Helen or 


HEART OF GOLD 


13 


Hector? — I wonder if that^s the man Hec Abbott 
was named after? I’d rather — My! what a lovely 
day it is for March! No wonder the doves are 
talking. Wouldn’t I like to be up on that barn 
roof in the sun! Bet I’d do some talking too. 
S ’posing I was a really dove. What fun it would 
be to fly away, away up in the blue sky. I wonder 
if they ever bump into the clouds. There goes a 
white cloud skimming right over the sun. Now 
it’s gone and we’re in the shine once more. Queer 
how it can shine in spots and be cloudy in spots at 
the same time. That’s like laughing with one 
eye and bawling with the other. I don’t b’lieve 
a body could ever do that. Wish I could, just to 
see what it would feel like. 

<< Twon’t take many days like this ’fore the 
grass begins to grow and the leaves to come. The 
trees are budded big now. I am crazy wild for 
the cowslips and vi’lets to get here. Hicks 
promised to help us plant some flowers on our 
Lilac Lady’s grave. It looks so bare and lonely 
now with the snow all gone, and only that tall 
white stone to tell where she is. I know where the 
loveliest yellow vi ’lets grow. ’ ’ 

Peace Greenfield!” 

Again Peace came to the earth with an abrupt- 
ness that left her breathless and quaking. ‘‘Yes, 
ma’am,” she responded meekly. 

“You weren’t paying attention, were you?” de- 
manded the long-suffering teacher. 

Peace pondered. She could scarcely say “yes” 
truthfully, and yet her intentions were good. She 


14 


HEART OP GOLD 


had not meant to lose herself again, nor did she 
realize how very little she had heard of the story 
which the teacher had been reading. 

‘‘Were youT’ repeated Miss Phelps relent- 
lessly. 

“Partly,^’ Peace responded haughtily. 

The woman gasped; then as the scholars gig- 
gled, she said sternly, “Tell us what the story was 
about. ’ ’ 

Peace opened her mouth. “Gan — she began 
and halted. What had the story been about? 
Rapidly she searched through her memory. It 
was such a funny word. How could she have 
forgotten it? 

The children sniggered audibly. 

“Gan — what?^’ urged the weary teacher 
sarcastically. 

0, yes, now she remembered it! “Gandermeats 
and pigeons,’^ triumphantly finished Peace, with 
a saucy toss of her head. 

There was a moment of dead silence in the 
room; then a jeering shout rose from forty-nine 
throats. But it was instantly quelled by a sharp 
rap on the desk, and when order was restored, 
Miss Phelps said encouragingly, “Ganymede and 
what. Peace? Surely not pigeon! You didnT 
mean that, now did you ? ^ ’ 

But Peace had come to the end of her resources. 
If it wasn’t pigeons, what was it? 

“Tell her, children,” prompted Miss Phelps, as 
Peace floundered helplessly. 

“An eagle,” yelled the chorus of eager voices. 


HEART OF GOLD 


15 


An eagle! Queer, but she had heard no mention 
made of an eagle; and she trembled in her shoes 
for fear the teacher would ask still more embar- 
rassing questions. 

Fortunately, however, Miss Phelps turned to 
the lad across the aisle, and said, Johnny, you 
may tell us the story of Ganymede. ’ ’ 

Johnny was nearly bursting his jacket in his 
eagerness to publish his knowledge; so to Peace ^s 
immense gratification and relief, he gabbled olf 
his version of Ganymede’s experience with 
Jupiter’s eagle. And Peace breathed more freely 
when he sat down puffing with pride at the 
teacher’s, ^‘Well told, Johnny.” 

‘‘Mercy! I’m glad she didn’t ask me any more 
about the old fellow,” Peace sighed. “I — ^1 guess 
I didn ’t hear much she said, but that horrid myth- 
ology is so dry. I don’t see why she keeps reading 
the stuff to us. I’d a sight rather study about 
physiology and cardrack valves and oil-factory 
nerves in the nose like Cherry does; though I 
don’t see how she ever remembers those long 
words and what part of the body they b’long to. 
I’d — yes, I’d rather have mental ’rithmetic every 
day of the week than mythology about old gods 
that never lived, and did only mean things to 
everybody when they b’lieved they lived.” 

“Peace Greenfield!” sounded an exasperated 
voice in her ear. “If you would rather watch 
those pigeons across the street than to pay at- 
tention to your lessons, we will just excuse you 
and let you stand by the window until — ” 


16 


HEART OP GOLD 


“I wasn^t watching a single pigeon that time/’ 
Peace broke in hotly. ‘‘I was only thinking about 
those hateful gods folks used to b’lieve in, and 
wondering why the School Board makes us study 
about them when they were just clear fakes — 
every one of ’em — ’nstead of learning things that 
really did happen at some time. There’s enough 
true, int ’resting things going on around us to 
keep us busy without studying fakes, seems to 
me.” 

Now it happened that the mythological tales 
with which Miss Phelps regaled her small charges 
from time to time were not a part of the regular 
course of study laid out for her grade, and at 
this pupil’s blunt criticism, the teacher’s face 
became scarlet; but she quickly regained her poise, 
and turning to the school, asked, ‘‘How many of 
you enjoy listening to these myths which I have 
been reading!” 

A dozen wavering, uncertain hands went up. 
The rest remained clasped on their desks. 

The woman was astounded. “What kind of 
stories do you like best?” she faltered. 

“Those in the new Readers,” responded the 
pupils as with one voice. 

Mechanically Miss Phelps reached for one of 
the volumes, and opening it at random, read the 
New England tale of the Pine-tree Shillings to 
her delighted audience. 

Peace tried to center her thoughts upon what 
was being read, but the lure of the Spring sun- 
shine and blue sky was too great to be resisted; 


HEART OP GOLD 


17 


and before the story was ended, she was again 
wandering in realms of her own. Down by the 
river where the pussy willows grew, out in the 
marshland where the cowslips soon would blow, 
up the gently sloping hillside, far up where the tall 
shaft of marble stood sentinel over the grave of 
her beloved Lilac Lady, she wandered, planning, 
planning what she would do when the warm 
Spring sunshine had chased away the Frost King 
for another year. 

The book closed with a sudden snap, and the 
teacher demanded crisply, ‘‘All who think they 
can tell the story as well as Johnny told us about 
Ganymede, raise your hands.” 

Vaguely aware that Miss Phelps had told them 
to raise their hands. Peace quickly shot one plump 
arm into the air and waved it frantically. 

“Very well, Peace, you may begin.” 

Peace bounced to her feet. What was expected 
of her! Why had she raised her hand! 

“Aw, tell her about the pine-tree shillings,” 
prompted boastful Johnny in a whisper, and Peace 
plunged boldly into the half -heard story, wonder- 
ing within herself how she was going to end it 
respectably when she did not know the true end- 
ing because her mind had been wool-gathering. 

“Once there was a man — a man — a man — ” 
blundered the girl, trying in vain to remember 
whether or not he had a name. 

“Yes, a man,” repeated the teacher im- 
patiently. “Go on. Where did he live and what 
did he do!” 


18 


HEART OP GOLD 


“He lived in olden times,’’ replied Peace, grasp- 
ing eagerly at the suggestion. 

“Well, but in what country? Asia or Africa?” 

“Neither. He lived in the New England,” — 
the New England chanced to be Martindale’s 
largest furniture store, — “and he was very rich 
and had a buckskin maiden.” 

“A whatf* gasped the astonished woman, 
dropping her book to the floor with a bang. 

“A — a buckskin maiden,” repeated the child 
slowly, realizing that she had made some mistake, 
but not knowing where. 

“Buxom,” whispered Johnny frantically. 

“A — a bucksin maiden,” corrected Peace. 

“Buxom!” snapped the teacher irritably. 

“Bucksome,” repeated Peace, with the picture 
of a bucking billy goat uppermost in her mind, 
and wondering how a maiden could be bucksome. 

“Go on,” sharply. 

“Well, this bucksome maiden wanted awful bad 
to get married, like all other women do, and so 
her father found a man for her, but she had to 
have a dairy — ” 

“Dowry,” corrected the teacher. “What is a 
dowry. Peace ? ” 

“A place where they keep cows,” responded the 
child, sure of herself this time; but to her amaze- 
ment, the rest of the scholars hooted derisively, 
and Miss Phelps said wearily, “Peace was evi- 
dently asleep when I explained the meaning of 
that word. Alfred, you may tell her what a 
dowry is. ’ ’ 


HEART OP GOLD 


19 


dowry is the money and jewels and things 
a girl gets from her father to keep for her very 
own when she marries.” 

‘‘Oh,” breathed Peace, suddenly enlightened. 
“Well, her father stood her in a pair of scales and 
weighed her with shingles — ” 

“With — f” Miss Phelps fortunately had not 
caught the word. 

“Pine-tree shillings,” prompted Johnny under 
his breath. “He had a chest full of ’em.” 

“Pine-tree shingles,” answered Peace dutifully. 
“He had a chest made of them.” 

“Peace Greenfield!” Miss Phelps’ patience 
had come to an end. Sometimes it seemed to her 
as if this solemn-eyed child purposely misunder- 
stood, and mocked at her attempts to lead unwil- 
ling feet along the path of learning, and she was 
at a loss to know how to deal with the sprightly 
elf who danced and flitted about like an elusive 
will-0 ’-wisp. The fact that she was the University 
President’s granddaughter was the only thing 
that had saved her thus far from utter disfavor in 
the eyes of her teacher; but now even that fact was 
lost sight of in face of the child’s repeated mis- 
demeanors and flagrant inattention. She should 
be punished. It was the only way out. 

Drawing her thin lips into a straight, grim line 
to express her disapproval. Miss Phelps repeated, 
“Peace Greenfield, you may remain after school.” 

The gong rang at that instant, the notes of the 
piano echoed through the building, and surprised, 
dismayed Peace, after one searching look at her 


20 


HEART OP GOLD 


teacher’s face and a longing glance out into the 
bright sunlight, sank into her seat and watched 
her comrades march gleefully down the hall and 
scatter along the street. It was too bad to be 
kept in on such a beautiful day! 0, dear, what a 
queer world it was and how many queer people in 
it! There was Miss Phelps for one. She was so 
strict and stern and sarcastic, — almost as sharp 
and harsh as Miss Peyton, who had made life so 
miserable for poor Peace in Chestnut School the 
year before. But Miss Peyton did begin to under- 
stand at last, while Miss Phelps — 

‘‘Peace, come here.” 

Peace roused from her bitter revery with a 
start. She had not observed the teacher’s noise- 
less return to the room after conducting her pupils 
down the hall, and was astonished to find the stiff 
figure sitting in its accustomed place behind the 
desk which had once more been whisked into 
spick and span order for another day. 

Peace scuttled spryly down the aisle, casting 
one final wistful glance over her shoulder at the 
doves across the street. How delightful it must 
be to be a bird! The teacher saw the glance, and 
putting on her severest expression, demanded 
sternly, “What is the matter with you, child! 
Have you lost your wits entirely, or — ” 

“0, teacher,” the eager voice burst forth, as 
Peace pointed rapturously out of the window, 
‘ ‘ isn ’t this the elegantest day ! Seems ’s if Winter 
had stayed twice as long this year as it ought to, 
and it’s been an awful trial to everyone, with its 


HEART OP GOLD 


21 


blizzards and drifts. I like winter, too. It’s such 
fun coasting and skating and sleighing and snow- 
balling. But I’ve got enough for once. I’m glad 
Spring is here at last. ’ ’ Her voice sent a respond- 
ing joyous thrill through the woman’s cold heart 
in spite of herself. ‘ ‘ The ice in the river is ’most 
all gone, the pussy willows by the boathouse are 
peeking out their queer little jackets, and the 
robins are beginning to build their nests in the 
trees. Grandpa says when the birds commence to 
build. Spring is here to stay; and I’m so glad. 
I’ve just been aching to go hunting vi’lets and 
cowslips and ’nemones. We are going to plant a 
heap of wild flowers on her grave — ” 

‘ ‘ Whose grave f ’ ’ the amazed teacher heard her- 
self asking. 

^ ‘ My Lilac Lady ’s. It ’s so bare now. The grass 
was all dead when she fell asleep last Fall, and 
only the ugly ground shows now — just the size of 
the bed they laid her in. We’re going to cover it 
with the flowers she liked best, first the wild ones 
from the woods, and then the garden blossoms — 
pansies and forget-me-nots and English daisies. 
I know where the prettiest vi’lets grow, — ^just 
scads and oodles of ’em — down by the stone bridge 
over Bartlett’s Creek in Parker; and Hicks is 
going to help us transplant them. Only it’s too 
early yet. They aren’t even up through the 
ground now. But it won’t take long, with days 
like this. It’s hard to study with Spring smelling 
so d’licious right under your nose. Doesn’t it 
make you want to get out and jump rope and play 


22 


HEART OF GOLD 


marbles and leap-frog, and — and just jump and 
skip and yellf I can pretty near fly with 
gladness!’^ 

Peace turned a radiant face toward the silent 
woman, and was dismayed to find tears glistening 
in the cold gray eyes. “OhI’’ she exclaimed in 
deep contrition, ‘‘what is the matter? Did I — 
what have I said now to make you squall ? ’ ^ 

“Nothing, dear,’^ smiled the teacher, wiping 
away the telltale drops with a hasty whisk of her 
handkerchief. “I — I just saw in my mind a 
picture of the little old cottage where I used to 
live, and it made me homesick, I think. My head 
aches, too, — ’’ 

“Then you mustn’t let me keep you here,” cried 
the child, forgetting that she had been bidden to 
remain after school as a punishment for inatten- 
tion. “You better go right home, drink a cup of 
good, hot tea, and go to bed. That’ll make you 
feel all right by morning, I know, ’cause that’s 
the way we fix Grandpa up when his head bothers. 
Here’s your hat and coat. Just breathe in lots of 
air, too. It’s pretty muddy under foot to walk 
very far, but the fresh air will do you good.” 

Before the woman could realize how it hap- 
pened, Peace had coaxed her into her wraps, 
slipped on her own, and hand in hand with the 
astounded teacher was walking demurely down 
the muddy street, still chattering gayly. At the 
corner, faithful Allee awaited the coming of her 
unfortunate sister, and Peace, seeing the yellow 
curls bobbing under the blue stocking cap, gave 


HEART OF GOLD 


23 


the teacher’s hand a parting squeeze, waved a 
smiling good-bye, and skipped off beside the 
younger child as if there were no such a thing as 
being kept in after school. 

Allee,” Miss Phelps heard her say as they 
pelted down the avenue, ‘‘do you s’pose Grand- 
ma’ll let us go over to Evelyn’s to play? It’s dry 
enough, I’m sure.” 

“Cherry’s gone on ahead to find out,” Alice 
panted. “They are going to play anti-over, — 
Ted and Johnny and all the rest.” 

“Goody! I just know Grandma won’t put her 
foot down. It’s such a lovely day! Hear that 
robin say, ‘Spring is here, Spring is here?’ 
S ’posin’ we were robins, Allee, and had to hunt 
up horse-hair and hay to build our nests of — ” 

“Peace! Allee! Hurry up. We are already 
to play,” screamed Evelyn Smiley, leaning over 
her gate and beckoning wildly to the racing girls. 
“Your grandmother says you can stay till five 
o ’clock. Ted ’s ‘ it ’ this time. Johnny has a dandy 
ball, and we are going to play over the house. ’ ’ 

“Oh!” cried Peace incredulously, “that’s so 
high!” 

“All the more fun,” answered Ted, joining 
them at the gate. 

“But we might break some windows.” 

“Fiddlesticks! Our ball is big and soft. 
Couldn’t break anything with it. ’Tain’t like 
Fred’s hard rubber one. Come on. This is my 
side of the house. You take the other.” 

The rest of the dozen children gathered on the 


24 


HEART OP GOLD 


front lawn scuttled away to the place designated, 
and the game was on. Such laughing and shout- 
ing, such running and dodging! Once Edith 
Smiley, Evelyn’s aunt, beloved of all the children, 
came to the window and watched the boisterous, 
exhilarating frolic with an anxious pucker be- 
tween her brows. “I am afraid someone will get 
hurt. Mother,” she said in answer to the white- 
haired grandmother’s questioning glance. 

‘‘How can they? Seems to me they are playing 
a very harmless game.” 

“But the house is too high for ‘anti-over.’ 
They should have taken the garage.” 

“Nonsense! They are developing muscle. 
Watch that Peace fling the ball. She can throw 
almost as well as a boy.” 

“The lawn is so slippery — ” 

‘ ‘ They are nimble on their feet, and the ground 
is soft.” 

Edith retired to her piano practise and the 
mother resumed her knitting with her usual tran- 
quillity. Suddenly above the soft strains of music 
that filled the house, rose a yell of dismay from 
a dozen throats outside. 

“What’s happened?” Edith glanced appre- 
hensively toward the door. 

“Their ball is caught on the roof,” answered 
her mother, still smiling placidly. “Guess their 
game is over for tonight. Well, it is time. The 
clock is just ready to strike five. ’ ’ 

Edith turned back to the piano, but before her 
hands had touched the ivory keys, there was a 


HEART OF GOLD 


25 


wild, excited, protesting shout from outside that 
brought her to her feet and sent her flying for the 
door. 

‘‘Peace, Peace! Come down. Youfll fall! 
You’ll fall!” 

“Johnny Gates, take that back! She’s not a 
coward! She couldn’t keep the ball from catching 
in that corner.” 

“Oh, Peace, never mind the ball. It’s Johnny 
who’s the coward.” 

“Hush! You will confuse her!” Edith’s voice 
was low but vibrant, and the screams from the ter- 
rified watchers below abruptly ceased. 

Peace had reached the ball wedged in a hollow 
by the chimney, and with accurate aim, sent it 
spinning down to its white-faced, tearful owner; 
but as she turned to crawl back the way she had 
come, her foot slipped, she wavered uncertainly, 
and fell with a crash to the roof, rolling over and 
over in a vain endeavor to stop her mad career, 
till, with the horrified eyes of the stricken 
audience glued upon her, she slid over the coping 
and landed in a crumpled heap on the sodden turf 
below. 

Then pandemonium broke loose. Evelyn burst 
into uncontrollable sobs, Fanny toppled over in 
blissful unconsciousness. Cherry, beside herself 
with grief, tore down the street to break the dire- 
ful news to those at home; and the boys danced 
and pranced in their terror, as they screamed, 
“She’s dead, she’s dead! Peace Greenfield’s 
dead!” 


26 


HEART OF GOLD 


For a brief instant, which seemed like eternity 
to Edith Smiley, she stood rooted to the spot, 
transfixed by the very horror of it all. Then loyal 
Allee’s frenzied scream brought her to her senses, 
and she saw the golden head bending over the 
disheveled form in the mud, as the child repeated 
again and again, ‘‘She^s not dead! She can't be 
dead! I wonT let her be dead!’’ Swiftly Edith 
knelt beside the pair and sought to lift the older 
child to carry her into the house. But at her first 
touch, the brown eyes unclosed, and a roguish 
smile broke over the white face, as Peace looked 
up at the frightened figures above her and giggled 
hysterically, ‘‘I’ve often wondered what it would 
feel like to fly. Do you s’pose it makes the birds 
sick and dizzy every time they make a swoop?” 

“Peace!” gasped Edith, “are you hurt?” 

“No, only things look kind of tipsy ’round here, 
and my breath has got St. Vitus Dance. ’ ’ Slowly 
she stretched out her arms and legs that they 
might see that none of her limbs were broken; but 
when she attempted to sit up, her lips went white 
and she fell back on the trampled grass with a 
stifled groan. 

“You are hurt, Peace Greenfield,” declared 
anxious Allee, hovering over her like a mother 
bird over her young. 

“There’s a place in my back,” whispered the 
injured girl faintly. “I guess maybe one of my 
ribs is cracked.” 

At this moment the distracted President and 
wild-eyed Gail pushed through the knot of chil- 


HEART OF GOLD 


27 


dren huddled about the fallen heroine, and de- 
manded huskily, ‘ ‘ How is she ? Not dead ? Thank 
God ! Any bones broken ? ’ ’ 

‘‘Nope, Grandpa,’’ smiled Peace cheerfully. 
‘ ‘ I just got a cricket in my back, so it hurts a little 
when I wiggle; but I got Johnny’s ball, too, 
didn’t I?” 

“I’m afraid there is something wrong,” 
whispered Edith Smiley, with a worried look in 
her eyes, as she made way for the President. 
“She can’t move without groaning.” 

The stalwart man stooped over the outstretched 
figure and gathered it in his arms, but as he lifted 
her from the ground she screamed in agony and 
fainted quite away. Thus they bore her home — 
the President with the still form on his bosom, 
Gail bearing the muddy red stocking cap. Cherry 
and Allee bringing up the rear, while a hushed, 
scared-faced throng of playmates followed at some 
distance. 

The next morning the corner- seat by the win- 
dow in Miss Phelps’ room was vacant for the first 
time that year, and the teacher looked up in sur- 
prise when no familiar voice answered, “Present,” 
when she called Peace Greenfield ’s name. 

“She fell off the roof of Smiley’s house,” vol- 
unteered one scholar. 

“And broke her back,” supplemented another. 

“What!” shrieked the horrified teacher, with a 
strange, sickening fear clutching at her heart. 

The door opened, and the school principal 
entered the room, looking worn and distraught. 


28 


HEART OF GOLD 


‘‘Miss Lisk/’ cried the teacher, turning eagerly 
to her superior, “the children tell me that Peace 
Greenfield has fallen from some roof and broken 
her back/^ 

“0, it^s not as bad as that,’’ responded the 
older woman promptly. “She has had a nasty 
fall and is — hurt. How badly, the doctor is un- 
able yet to say, but we hope she will soon be with 
us again.” Lowering her voice so none but the 
teacher could hear, she added, “The physician is 
afraid that her spine is injured.” 

“Oh!” cried Miss Phelps, too shocked for 
further words. 

“It is too bad such a thing should happen to 
her,” continued Miss Lisk sadly. “She is such a 
lovable child, the life of her home.” 

Had anyone paid such a tribute to the lively 
Peace on the previous day, her teacher would 
merely have raised her eyebrows doubtfully; but 
with the memory of that flushed, joyous face still 
so vividly before her, and with the sound of the 
eager, childish prattle still ringing in her ears, 
she nodded her head in assent, and turned back 
to the day’s duties with a heaviness of heart that 
was overwhelming. With that restless, active 
figure gone from its accustomed corner, the sun 
seemed to have set in mid-day and left the whole 
world in darkness. 


CHAPTER II 


THE SCRAP-BOOK BRIGADE 

When Peace awoke to her surroundings again, 
she was lying in the gorgeously draped bed of the 
Flag Room with old Dr. Coates bending over her, 
and she startled the worthy gentleman by asking 
in sprightly tones, “Well, Doctor, how are you! 
It’s been a long time since you’ve been to call on 
me, isn ’t it ? Do you think I have cracked a rib ? ” 

“No, little girl,” he answered soberly, but his 
wrinkled old face brightened visibly at the sound 
of her cheery voice. “I think you have put a kink 
in your back.” 

“Will it be all right soon?” 

“We hope so, curly pate.” 

“By tomorrow!” 

“O, dear, no! Not for — days.” He could not 
bring himself to tell her that it might be weeks 
before he could even determine how badly the 
little back was hurt. 

“Mercy!” she wailed in consternation, for bed 
held no charms for that active body. “And must 
I stay in bed all that while ? ’ ’ 

“My dear child,” he answered gravely, “do 
you realize that you are the luckiest girl in seven 
counties tonight!” 


29 


30 


HEART OP GOLD 


‘‘How?” she asked curiously, forgetting her 
lament in her wonder at his words. 

“It^s a miracle that you were not killed 
outright.” 

“Well, Johnny dared me.” 

“And you couldn’t pass up a dare?” 

She shook her head. 

“Well, now my girlie must take her medicine.” 

Peace looked startled. “I didn’t ’xpect to 
fall,” she murmured, and two tears glistened in 
her big brown eyes. 

The doctor relented. ‘ ‘ There, there, little one, ’ ’ 
he comforted, “don’t feel badly. We’ll soon have 
you up and about — perhaps,^* he added under his 
breath. 

So he left her smiling and cheerful, but his own 
heart was heavy as he descended the stairs after 
the long examination was ended, and a pall of 
anxiety hung over the whole household when the 
door closed behind his broad back. Peace crip- 
pled perhaps for life, perhaps never to walk with- 
out crutches again! It was too dreadful to be 
true. Peace, — their gay little butterfly! Peace, 
whose feet seemed like wings ! They never walked, 
but danced along with the lightness of a fairy, 
tripping, flitting, never still. What a calamity! 

“But Dr. Coates says it is too soon to know for 
certain yet,” Hope reminded them, trying to find 
a ray of encouragement to cheer the anxious 
household, and they seized upon that straw with 
desperation, gradually taking heart once more, 
and trying to shake off the dreadful fear that 


HEART OF GOLD 


31 


Peace would never romp or dance about the house 
again. 

And it really seemed as if the white-haired phy- 
sician ’s fears were groundless; for after the first 
few days when the slightest touch made the little 
sufferer whimper with pain, she seemed to get 
better. The soreness wore away, the drawn lines 
around the mouth smoothed themselves out, the 
rosy color came back to the round cheeks and the 
sound of the well-known laughter floated from 
room to room. Peace was undoubtedly better, and 
even Dr. Coates forgot to look grave as he came 
and went on his professional calls. 

‘‘She is doing nicely!’’ the worried President 
asked him anxiously two weeks after the 
accident. 

“Splendidly!” the doctor answered with his 
bluff heartiness. “Far better than I had dared 
hope. If she continues to improve as rapidly as 
she has been doing, we will have her on her feet 
again in a month or two.” 

“A month or two!” gasped Peace, when Allee, 
who had chanced to overhear the old physician’s 
words, repeated them to the restless invalid. 
“Why, I ’xpected he’d let me up next week 
anyway!** 

“The back is a very delicate organism,” quoted 
Cherry grandly, always ready to display her small 
store of knowledge, though she really meant to 
bring comfort to this dismayed sister. “When it 
is once injured, it requires a long time to grow 
strong again. Wouldn’t you rather spend two or 


32 


HEART OP GOLD 


three months in bed than to hobble about on 
crutches all the rest of your life ? ’ ’ 

‘‘Yes, of course, but — 

“Well, Doctor thought at first that you would 
never be able to walk without ’em.’^ Now that 
Peace seemed well on the road to recovery, the 
secret fear which had haunted the household ever 
since the night of the accident took shape in 
words, and for the first time the invalid learned 
what a fate had been prophesied for her. 

** Without crutches she half whispered. 

“Yes.^» 

Peace lay silent for a long moment while the 
awfulness of those words burned themselves into 
her brain. Then with a shudder she said aloud, 
“That^s a mighty big thankful, ainT itf — To 
think I don’t have to limp along with crutches! 
But, oh dear, two months in bed is such a long 
time to wait! Whatever will I do with myself? My 
feet are just itching to wiggle. IVe been here two 
weeks now, and it seems two years. Two months 
means eight whole weeks T* 

The voice rose to a tragic wail, and Grandma 
Campbell, hearing the commotion, hurried across 
the hall to discover the cause. She glanced re- 
provingly at the two culprits when the tale of woe 
had been poured into her ears with fresh laments 
from the small victims; but instead of scolding, as 
remorseful Cherry and Allee expected her to do, 
she smiled sympathetically, even cheerfully at the 
tragic face on the pillow, and asked, “Supposing 
you were a little tenement-house girl, cooped up 


HEART OF GOLD 


33 


in a tiny, stifling kitchen, with the steamy smell 
of hot soapsuds always in the air, and you had to 
lie all day, week in and week out, with not a book 
nor a toy to help while away the long hours. With 
not even a glimpse of the world outside to make 
you forget for a time the cruelly aching back — ’’ 

‘‘0, Grandma, not really?'* interrupted Peace, 
for something in the sound of the gentle voice 
told her that this was no imaginary picture which 
was being drawn. ‘^Is there such a little girl?’^ 

The white head nodded soberly. 

“IsnT there even any sunshine there? The 
brown eyes glanced wistfully out of the window, 
beside which the swan bed had been drawn, and 
gloated in the beautiful April sunlight which was 
already coaxing the grass into its brilliant green 
dress. 

*‘Not a gleam,’’ answered the woman sadly. 
‘‘The buildings are jammed so closely together, 
and the windows are so small that not a ray of 
sunlight can penetrate a quarter part of the 
musty, dingy little rooms.” 

‘ ‘ Is that here — in Martindale ? ’ ’ inquired Cherry 
in shocked tones. 

“Yes, on the North Side.” 

“What is the little girl’s name?” asked Allee, 
awed into whispers by this sad recital. 

“Sadie Wenzell.” 

“How old is she?” was the next question. 

“Just the age of Peace.” 

“0, a little girl!” exclaimed Cherry. “Will 
she ever get well again?” 


34 


HEART OF GOLD 


The sweet-faced woman hesitated an instant. 
How could she tell the eager listeners that long 
neglect had made poor Sadie ^s case well-nigh hope- 
less? Then she answered slowly, ‘‘We are giving 
her every possible chance now, dearies. The Aid 
Society found her by accident, and got her into 
the Children’s Ward of the City Hospital. She 
cried with happiness because the bed was so soft 
and white and clean; and when the nurse carries 
up her breakfast or dinner, it is hard to persuade 
the little thing to eat, — she is so charmed with the 
dainty appearance of the tray.” 

“Oh-h!” whispered the three voices in awed 
chorus. 

“Didn’t she have anything to eat in her own 
house?” ventured Allee. 

“Nothing but dry bread and greasj^ soup all the 
five years she has laid there — ” 

“Five years!” repeated Peace in horrified ac- 
cents. “Without any sunshine and green grass 
and flowers! 0, I sli’d think she’d have died 
before this! Didn’t she ever go to school and 
play with other children ? ’ ’ 

“Before she fell from the fire-escape — ” 

“Was she hurt in a fire?” interrupted Cherry 
with interest. 

“No, there was no fire, but the fire-escape was 
her only playground, for her mother would not let 
her run the streets with the other ragamuffins of 
the tenements; and one day she fell and crushed 
her hip. But before that, she had attended a free 
kindergarten around the corner and learned her 


HEART OF GOLD 


35 


alphabet. Her mother has a little education, and 
she has managed to find time to teach Sadie how 
to read, but that is all the child knows of school. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ 0, ^ ’ sighed Peace, with a sudden yearning for 
the rambling old sChool-house, the high-ceilinged 
rooms, her low seat by the window, and even stern 
Miss Phelps, ^^what a lot she has missed! Here 
I^m feeling bad ^cause school will be out Tore I 
am up again, if I have to stay in bed two months 
longer, and 1^11 be way behind my classes. But 
Sadie has never had a chance to go to school at 
all.’^ 

‘‘Yes, dearie, you see how much you have to be 
thankful for, even if it is two months before you 
can get out of doors again by yourself. Until now, 
Sadie never knew what flowers looked like grow- 
ing in the ground. I sent her a pot of your hya- 
cinths when the Aid made their monthly visit to 
the Hospital, and Mrs. Cheever was just telling me 
that the child could not believe they were really 
alive. It is so sad to find one cheated out of so 
much in life. ’ ’ 

“IsnT there something else I can send her of 
mine?’’ Peace anxiously inquired. “I’ve got so 
much and she hasn’t anything. These puzzles are 
so stale I don’t want to see ’em again and those 
books — ” 

“Suppose you make some scrapbooks to amuse 
her with at first,” suggested Mrs. Campbell 
hastily, for when the missionary spirit seized this 
restless, active body, it never ceased working 
until she had given away not only all her own 


36 


HEART OP GOLD 


treasures, but all those belonging to her sisters 
which chanced to fall into her hands. 

^‘Scrapbooks!’’ cried Peace scornfully. “No 
one but babies cares for them. Why, even Allee 
hasn’t been int ’rested in such things for ages.” 

Mrs. Campbell smiled inwardly at Peace’s con- 
tempt, but gently persisted, “Sadie is too weak 
to hold heavy books yet, dearie. The puzzles 
might amuse her, but she tires so easily that I 
know some small cambric scrapbooks would prove 
a boon to her just now. I agree with you that 
she would soon grow weary of looking at mere 
pictures; but I found some very unique and help- 
ful little books in the attic the other day which 
might give you some ideas. Ned Meadows made 
them one summer for his own amusement while 
he was confined to his bed with a broken leg. He 
cut up a lot of old magazines and pasted the 
articles which interested him into some ancient 
notebooks Grandpa Campbell had lying around 
the house. He was always on the lookout for 
items concerning electricity, and one book was 
filled from cover to cover with bits of such news. 
Another contained nothing but jokes which had 
helped him laugh away a good many minutes; and 
still another was used for anecdotes of famous 
men, with perhaps a photograph or caricature to 
illustrate the little stories. He spent hours cut- 
ting and pasting just for his own pleasure and 
amusement; but without realizing it, he also stored 
away much useful knowledge in his brain while he 
was waiting impatiently for the leg to mend. 


HEART OF GOLD 


37 


Don’t you think that would make an interesting 
play for you?” 

‘‘Ye — s,” replied Peac6 dutifully but doubt- 
fully. She was not as fond of reading as were her 
sisters, and though her grandmother’s plan 
sounded interesting when it concerned someone 
else, she had her misgivings as to its success when 
applied to herself. 

“Then let’s begin at once,” cried Mrs. Camp- 
bell, trying to look intensely eager, as she noted 
the lack of enthusiasm in the round, cherubic face 
on the pillow. “We will make our books of cam- 
bric, because that will be of lighter weight than 
paper, and I have stacks of old magazines filled 
with short stories and bright sayings. Cherry, 
will you please bring me my scissors from the 
work-basket and that roll of colored cambric on 
the top shelf in the hall closet? Allee, wouldn’t 
you like to run down to the barn and ask Jud to 
bring us those old ‘Companions’ from the loft? 
Here comes Hope. Just in time, dearie, to fetch 
us the paste from the library and the pinking iron 
which Gussie was using last evening. We prob- 
ably won’t get as far as pasting anything today, 
as it is so nearly night now, but we will have 
everything ready for the time we shall need it.” 

Mrs. Campbell bustled briskly about, settling 
the invalid in a more comfortable position, ar- 
ranging the light bed table where it would be 
most convenient for Peace to reach, and collecting 
the other necessary material for the “scrapbook 
brigade,” as she laughingly called it, when Cherry, 


38 


HEART OF GOLD 


Hope, Allee and Jud came marching upstairs 
again, each bringing a contribution to aid in the 
good cause. All looked so eagerly enthusiastic 
and anxious to lend a hand that in spite of herself. 
Peace began to feel a thrill of interest tingle 
through her veins, and promptly began snipping 
up the pages which Jud dumped on a chair beside 
her bed. Mrs. Campbell cut the colored cloth 
into neat squares, Allee pinked the edges, and 
Cherry stitched them into tiny books with card- 
board covers to protect the pictures and stories 
so soon to be pasted on their pages. Everyone 
had a task of her own, and the dinner-bell rang 
before anyone had tired of this new play. Indeed, 
it was with actual reluctance that Peace sur- 
rendered her shears and saw her cluttered table 
cleared away for the night. 

‘Hf it would only last!’’ sighed Mrs. Campbell, 
as she related the day’s events to the little family 
gathered around the table for the evening meal. 
^‘But she is not contented with anything long, 
and will soon weary of this as she has of every- 
thing else.” 

‘‘Then we must get our heads together and be 
ready with something new just as soon as we see 
her interest is flagging. Gail, you are the oldest. 
We will let you have the honor of first turn.” 

“All right, Grandpa,” smiled Gail. “I will do 
my best.” But it was really Gussie who acci- 
dentally found the next diversion after an un- 
expected and tragic ending of the scrapbook 
brigade. 


HEART OP GOLD 


39 


Cutting, sorting, arranging and pasting proved 
an amusing occupation for several days, owing to 
the contagious enthusiasm of the other members 
of the household, who were constantly bringing 
in some bright little story, quaint anecdote or in- 
teresting bit of information to add to Peace ^s 
rapidly growing collection. At one time Mrs. 
Campbell would suddenly appear on the thresh- 
old with her hands filled with colored plates from 
some magazine article relating to birds or bees, 
plants or other nature study. Again Faith would 
bring in a bundle of laughable incidents gleaned 
from the ‘ ‘ funny pages of popular magazines; or 
Allee would lay a carefully trimmed bunch of 
short poems gathered from children's publica- 
tions upon the white counterpane of Peace ^s bed. 
And once Hope triumphantly displayed a thick 
package of beautiful illustrations for articles 
already clipped out for pasting. 

‘‘Where did you get themF^ Peace demanded. 
“Miss Page gave them to me when I happened 
to mention what you were doing, answered Hope, 
her face glowing with animation as she tenderly 
turned the pictures one by one for Peace to see. 

‘ ‘ How did she happen to have so many ? ^ ’ 

“She used them in her English classes when 
they were studying about Lowell and Hawthorne 
and Longfellow. See, here is one that illus- 
trates ‘The Children's Hour,’ and here is another 
of ‘Snow Bound.’ This is a beautiful picture of 
Hawthorne’s birthplace, and here is ‘Old Iron- 
sides.’ You don’t know much about some of the 


40 


HEART OF GOLD 


men yet because you haven’t had their poems in 
school; but you’ve got stories about everyone of 
them for your scrapbooks, and if the pictures 
don ’t fit, we will hunt up some other articles that 
will go with them.” 

Peace sighed, opened her mouth as if to protest, 
then closed it again; but a rebellious look crept 
into the brown eyes; and had Hope been less en- 
thusiastic over her latest contribution to the 
scrapbook fund, she might have noticed the de- 
termined set of the expressive mouth, and sus- 
pected that something unusual was brewing under 
the brown curls. 

As it was, no one but Peace was prepared for the 
host of children that marched up the President’s 
front door steps the following afternoon, armed 
with paste-pots, brushes and scissors, and wearing 
big pinafores over their school dresses. Each de- 
manded to see the invalid, and when ushered into 
the Flag Room was promptly set to work sticking 
pictures onto cambric pages. 

^‘This can hardly be a coincidence,” thought 
Mrs. Campbell, assailed by a sudden suspicion 
when patient Marie had shown the tenth visitor 
up the winding stairs. ^^Here come three in one 
bunch. Yes, they are turning in at the gate. 
Peace — ’ ’ 

The brown eyes glanced up from under their 
long lashes, and reading in the gentle, old face 
the unspoken question. Peace calmly announced, 
^ ^ Grandma, these are the Gleaners and their 
friends. They’ve come to help me stick scrap- 


HEART OF GOLD 


41 


books. You ’member you said they might have 
their next meeting at our house?” 

‘‘But — but that’s more than a week off yet,” 
stammered the amazed lady. 

“The regular meeting day is,” Peace agreed, 
“but I was just swamped under with work, so I 
coaxed Miss Edith to call a special meeting just 
a-purpose to stick. They’ve all brung their own 
glue and stuff. All we need now is more tables. I 
was awfully afraid there wouldn’t be many come, 
and I’m so deathly tired of hacking and reading 
and sorting and pasting all by my lonesome, that 
for two cents I’d dump the whole business right 
into the river, Sadie Wenzell or no Sadie 
Wenzell.” 

‘ ‘ Why, Peace ! ’ ’ murmured the surprised woman 
in shocked tones. 

“Well, I would,” the small rebel persisted. 
“Just as soon as I get one bunch of papers snipped 
up, in comes Jud with a bigger pile, or the girls 
lug up a lot of truck. I’ve read till I’m dizzy and 
cross-eyed, and my wits are worn out trying to 
’member all they’ve seen and heard. I’ve learned 
so much inflammation that it will be months before 
there’s any space for any more to sink in. What 
do you s’pose Sadie’s going to do with it all? 
There are a dozen scrapbooks all made and 
enough stuff cut to fill a dozen more. There goes 
the bell again. That must be Miss Edith. I know 
her ring.” 

Abashed at this unlooked-for outbreak, and 
musing over the abrupt ending of her cherished 


42 


HEART OF GOLD 


plans, Mrs. Campbell hastily withdrew and went 
to meet the superintendent, whose voice could be 
heard in cheery greeting from the hall below. 

Just fifteen girls put in appearance at the Presi- 
dent's house that afternoon, and for two hours 
they worked like beavers under the direction of 
the small tyrant in bed. Then Peace abruptly 
commanded, ^‘Lay down your brushes now and 
clear up. It^s most dinner time and this room 
must look all right when Grandpa gets here. 
Grandma, will you please bring in the prize ? ^ ^ 

^^The prized’ echoed Mrs. Campbell in be- 
wilderment. 

^‘Why, yes. It’s that box of bonbons on your 
shelf. I asked Grandpa to get it for me two days 
ago.” 

‘‘Did — did he know what you wanted it for?” 
she queried. 

“I don’t s’pose he did ezackly,” the child con- 
fessed. “But I was so afraid no one would want 
to paste pictures bad enough to come out today, 
that I promised ’freshments for all and a prize for 
the one who made the best book and Evelyn’s got 
it. Evelyn, you better open up the box and treat 
the rest of us. A choc ’lit drop would taste pretty 
good after working so hard. Gussie’ll be up 
d’reckly with the ’freshments. I told her to make 
a whale of a batch of cookies and gallons of lemon- 
ade. We need something after finishing that job. 
But we’ve got most of the stuff stuck in some- 
where and the books are plumb full. I’m so 
glad!” 


HEART OF GOLD 


43 


And indeed Peace was right. Scarcely a scrap 
remained of the huge pile of pictures and clip- 
pings which had littered table, dresser and bed a 
few moments before the scrapbook brigade began 
to congregate; but more than twenty neatly pasted 
scrapbooks stood stacked in the corner to dry, 
and Peace was content. 


) M. 





CHAPTER III 


gussie's new play 

The day following this unexpected meeting of 
the Gleaners, the invalia spent in slumber, so ex- 
hausted was she by her efforts to get the ob- 
noxious books completed and out of the way; but 
the second day she was herself again and restlessly 
eager for some new diversion; and here it was that 
Gussie came to the rescue. It had been a hard 
day for them all. Outside the rain poured down 
in torrents, driven by a cold, fitful wind which 
seemed more like the blast of winter than the 
herald of returning spring; and inside even the 
cheerful glow of the open fires could not dispel 
the gloom and dampness of the storm without. It 
is just such a day as makes well folks cross and 
disgusted, and the poor, unwilling prisoner in the 
Flag Room upstairs felt forlorn indeed as she 
gazed down the deserted, flooded streets and 
across the soaked, sodden lawns which only yester- 
day had whispered of the coming of summer. 

She was tired of reading, — the mere thought of 
it made her sick — the geographical puzzles which 
Alice and Cherry had laboriously cut out for her 
amusement smacked of school and duty; she could 
not play games all by herself and Grandma was 
too busy; dolls long since had lost their charm; it 

45 


46 


HEART OP GOLD 


was too stormy for callers; and altogether the 
world seemed a dull and cheerless place. Even 
when the girls returned from school, the atmos- 
phere did not clear. Peace was plainly out of 
sorts, and it was with a sigh of thanksgiving that 
the household saw the dismal day draw to a close. 

The dinner-bell pealed out its summons, and 
half-heartedly Allee pulled out the invalid’s little 
table, covered it with a snowy cloth and sat down 
beside the bed. It was her turn to eat dinner in 
the Flag Room that night. Such occasions were 
usually regarded as a great privilege by this 
golden-haired fairy, who was a willing slave to 
every caprice of the brown-haired sister; but to- 
night she did not care much. Peace was so sulky, 
— not at all her sprightly, cheerful self, — and 
Allee felt out of sorts in sympathy. 

Marie did not at once put in appearance with 
the usual covered tray, and Peace had just reached 
out an impatient hand to ring the bell when there 
was a sound of light steps on the stairs, and 
Gussie’s smiling face bobbed around the corner. 

^‘Good evening,” she laughed, courtesying so 
low that the tray she bore tipped threateningly. 

‘‘What’s happened to Marie?” demanded 
Peace, ungraciously. Then catching sight of the 
quaint garb the new waitress was wearing, her 
face lighted expectantly, and she cried in delight, 
“0, Gussie, how’d you come to think of that? 
Ain’t that Swede dress pretty, Allee? ’Tis 
Swede, isn’t it?” 

“Yes,” laughed Gussie, perfectly satisfied with 


HEART OP GOLD 


47 


the reception of her little surprise. ^‘This is the 
way women dress in Sweden where I was born.^’ 

‘‘And Idl bet you’ve got something nice under 
that napkin, too,” Peace hazarded, her eyes danc- 
ing with their old roguish gleam. 

“I shouldn’t wonder a bit,” Gussie retorted, 
setting down the tray before the eager duet and 
carefully lifting off the white towel which covered 
it. The girls looked mystified, — a trifle disap- 
pointed, it seemed to the watchful cook, — and she 
hastily explained, “I’ve brought you a Swedish 
supper. ’ ’ 

“A — what?” gasped Peace, still studying the 
queer dishes on the tray. 

“A supper like the boys and girls in Sweden 
eat.” 

“Oh-h!” cried both girls in unison. “What 
fun!” 

“Do they have this every night?” asked Allee, 
privately thinking that if they did she was glad 
she was an American. 

“Oh, no, not always. This is just a — a sample 
supper. We have different dishes in Sweden 
just as you do here or in France or England.” 

“Then make us another Swede supper tomor- 
row night, — and every night until we’ve et up all 
your Swede dishes. Will you, Gussie?” wheedled 
Peace. 

The older girl hesitated, frowned and said 
thoughtfully, “You would* get tired of them very 
soon, girlie. Lots you would not touch at all. For 
instance, sour milk and sugar.” 


48 


HEART OP GOLD 


‘‘No, I shouldn’t like that,” Peace confessed, 
with an expressive shrug of her shoulders, 
“but—” 

“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” the obliging Gussie 
interrupted. “Tomorrow night we will have a 
French dinner, and you must tell everything you 
know about France.” 

“Oh, how splendid!” Both children clapped 
their hands gleefully. ‘ ‘ And next night we ’ll have 
a German dinner, and then an Italian and a 
Spanish and a Denmarkish and a Swiss, and 
a — a — ” 

Peace paused to think of some other countries, 
while Gussie stood appalled at the result of her 
suggestion. But a glance at the glowing face on 
the pillow was ample reward, and suddenly re- 
alizing that she had given the weary prisoner a 
new and profitable play to occupy the long hours 
while the girls were away at school, she recklessly 
promised, “Dinners for every country in the 
world, if we can find out what each nation eats. 
But mind, you must learn all you can about the 
people and their land.” 

“It’ll be fun to do that,” Peace answered 
readily. “I wonder why they don’t teach 
g’ography that way in school. It would be a heap 
more interesting.” 

Thus the long weeks rolled by, and unknown to 
Peace herself, she was not only keeping abreast of 
her classes in school, but forging ahead in her 
studies as she had never done before. 

“It’s so int ’resting to learn that way,” sighed 


HEART OF GOLD 


49 


the little prisoner blissfully, after a particularly 
impressive lesson supper one night. ‘^The only 
thing is, we^re going to run out of countries pretty 
soon, and then what will we do? Already weVe 
reached Asia. I ate China last night and India 
tonight. Tomorrow Twill be Japan, and then 
there is only Africa and South America left before 
we get around the world. They have all been such 
fun ! Some countries know how to cook lots better 
than others. Now, I really dreaded getting to 
China, ’cause the books say Chinamen eat roasted 
rats, and I couldn’t bear to think of Gussie’s dish- 
ing up such horrible things as that; but the slop 
chewey and rice she cooked were simply dee- 
licious. I’ve always heard a lot about the India 
folks eating curry, too, and I thought it meant the 
hair they scratched off their horses with a curry- 
comb; so I was much surprised when Gussie made 
some for my dinner tonight. It’s only soup with 
some stuff in it that makes it ’most too hot to 
eat. 

^^I can’t imagine what she will give me in 
Africa, ’cause we ain’t cannibals, and she never 
will even hint what’s coming next, but I guess she 
will get around it some way. Why, in some coun- 
tries the people eat horrible things! In West 
Indies they bake snakes and fry palm worms! 
Think of it! Ugh, it makes me shiver! The folks 
in Brazil eat ants, and in New Caledonia it’s 
spiders. The Mexicans cook parrots and eat 
dynamite. Do you s’pose they ever ’xplode? And 
in France where Marie was born they just love 


50 


HEART OF GOLD 


snails — raw! I’d as soon eat angleworms myself. 
My! I’m glad I’m a civilized hunting being. 
Course Gussie hasn ’t fed me any of that junk, and 
it’s been lots of fun traveling this way. I wish 
the world wasn’t round, but just stretched away 
and away. Then there ’d be room for more 
countries. ’ ’ 

‘‘Maybe Gussie will take you around the world 
again,” suggested Allee comfortingly. 

“You’d better take a trip through the United 
States next, ’ ’ said Cherry, who privately thought 
Peace was having the most wonderful experiences 
that ever befell mortal man, and rather envied the 
invalid her easy lot, — for such it really seemed to 
her. 

“Why, I never thought of that,” cried Peace, 
enchanted with the idea. “But how could I, so’s 
it would be as interesting as eating in other coun- 
tries? We are all Americans here and cook the 
same things.” 

“0, there’s lots of difference between our own 
states,” Cherry stoutly maintained. “In Florida 
they raise oranges mostly, and cotton in 
Louisiana — ” 

“A person can’t eat cotton,” Peace broke in 
scornfully. 

“I didn’t say they could,” replied Cherry as in- 
dignantly. “But they grow other things, too. 
Maine has the best apples in the country. Grandpa 
says; and Michigan the best peaches. Georgia 
grows sweet potatoes — ” 


HEART OF GOLD 


51 


‘^And peanuts/’ Peace interrupted, aglow with 
animation. 

‘‘Yes, and peanuts,” Cherry repeated. “Cali- 
fornia is noted for its grapes, and — oh, every state 
has something it raises ’specially. It would he as 
interesting traveling in the United States as in 
Europe, / think. ’ ’ 

“So do I, — now,” Peace conceded. “And 
Gussie does make such a splendid teacher! That’s 
what she ought to be all right, ’stead of a cook, 
though she does know how to cook wonderful 
things. But I’m glad she has got ’most enough 
money saved up to take her through Normal Col- 
lege. She can poke more real education into a 
fellow’s head in a minute than Miss Phelps can in 
a day.” 

So the unique lessons continued, and Peace 
almost forgot at times that she was a prisoner 
unable to romp and play in the sunshiny out-of- 
doors which she loved so well. She even whistled 
occasionally when the play was most interesting; 
and the members of the household, watching so 
anxiously over their idol, rejoiced that the color 
still bloomed in the round cheeks, and the merry 
sparkle so often danced in the big brown eyes. 


‘V,, ’ V' . '.'t; ‘■■‘■'- /* ■ ■ • ’■* 

• ' . . V’' » • ' ’ . > , . • ■ ' ' 




• ( 


< 

/ 





CHAPTER IV 


PEACE LEARNS THE BITTER TRUTH 

The school year came to a close, the days grew 
hotter, the nights brought no relief, and Dr. 
Coates, still a daily visitor at the big house, began 
to look grave again. 

‘‘What is it?’’ asked the President, feeling in- 
tuitively that something was wrong. “She is not 
doing as well?” 

“No.” The old doctor shook his head. 

“The heat?” 

“Possibly, — possibly. But she had stopped 

mending before the hot wave struck us.” 

“Then you think — ” 

“I’m afraid it means that operation I mentioned 
when she was first hurt. ’ ’ 

The President turned on his heel and strode 
over to the window where he stood looking out 
into the warm, breathless evening twilight. When 
he wheeled about again, the doctor saw that the 
strong face was set and white, and great beads 
of perspiration stood on his forehead. “I — I trust 
you will not be offended, doctor,” he said with a 
catch in his voice, “but I should like the opinion 
of other physicians — specialists — before taking 
that step. You say — it is — a very delicate 
operation ? ’ ’ 


53 


54 


HEART OF GOLD 


the doctor admitted. ‘^But I am afraid 
now that it is her only chance. However, it is 
perfectly agreeable to me if you wish to consult 
other authorities. I myself would be glad to hear 
the opinions of specialists.’’ 

So it happened that a few days later a strange 
doctor bent over the white bed in the Flag Room, 
and when he had punched and poked to his heart’s 
content and Peace’s abject misery, another physi- 
cian took his place. 

‘^Dr. Coates said I hadn’t cracked a rib,” 
moaned the unhappy victim tearfully, as she saw 
the second unfamiliar face above her, ‘‘but I’ll 
bet that man who just went out has cracked the 
whole bunch for me. Is that your business, too?” 

“No, my dear,” tenderly answered the big, 
burly specialist, beginning his examination with 
such a gentle, practised touch that Peace scarcely 
winced throughout the long ordeal. “My busi- 
ness is to mend cracked ribs — also cracked backs. 
Does yours feel very badly cracked?” 

“All splintered up sometimes,” the child 
promptly admitted. “It gets so bad in the night 
when there’s no one here to rub it that I can’t 
help crying once in a while. I tried to rub it 
myself the other night, but it took all my breath 
away and I could hardly get it back again. The 
bed is so hot! Dr. Coates said ages ago that I 
could get up in two months, but it’s more’n that 
now and he shakes his head every time I ask him. ’ ’ 

“Are you then so anxious to get out of this dear 
little crib?” 


HEART OF GOLD 


55 


Peace stared hard at the kindly face so near 
her own, and then ejaculated, ‘‘ ^Cause it^s a dear 
little crib doesn^t make it any cooler nor any 
easier to stay tucked in when you are just crazy 
to be dancing about. Why, it^s June now! They 
told me I^d be well so’s I could plant the pansies 
on my Lilac Lady^s grave, seeing as Allee had to 
set out all the viTets without any of my help. And 
now Hicks has had to transplant the pansies 
’cause they will soon be too big. ’ ’ 

‘‘Tell me all about it,” urged the specialist, as 
if every minute of his time was not worth dollars 
to him; and Peace poured her heart full of woe 
into his sympathetic ears. When she had finished 
he abruptly asked, “Supposing Dr. Coates told 
you that an operation would be necessary before 
you could get well, would you let him perform it?” 

“What’s a noperationf^ asked Peace inquisi- 
tively. 

‘ ‘ There is something out of place in your back, 
caused by your fall. It is pressing against the 
spine and must be lifted up where it belongs 
before — you can ever — get well.” 

“And can Dr. Coates lift it up where it 
b ’longs?” Peace was breathlessly interested. 

“Yes, — we think so, — we hope so,” stammered 
the doctor, startled by the eager tone of her voice 
and the quick light in her big eyes. 

“All right then, we’ll have the noperation. I’d 
most begun to think I was going to be like my 
Lilac Lady. My legs don’t feel any more, and she 
said hers didn’t.” 


56 


HEART OF GOLD 


‘‘God forbid/’ muttered the man, who had 
already lost his heart to the little invalid, and was 
deeply touched by the pathos of the case; and 
gathering up his glittering instruments, he hurried 
from the room. 

That night a cooling rain washed the fever from 
the air and the world awoke refreshed from its 
bath. The hot wave had broken, but to poor 
Peace the cool atmosphere brought little relief. 
The injured back hurt her cruelly and she could 
not keep the tears from her eyes. 

“I knew that first doctor would crack a rib,” 
she sobbed wildly, as the distracted President 
strove in vain to ease her pain. “Why doesn’t 
Dr. Coates come and noperate? 0, it does hurt 
me so bad. Grandpa!” 

Laying the child back among her pillows, the 
stalwart man hastily fled down the stairway, and 
when he came back Dr. Coates and a sweet-faced, 
white-capped nurse were with him. The room 
across the hall was stripped of its furnishings and 
scrubbed with some evil- smelling stuff until the 
whole house reeked with it. Then the walls were 
draped with spotless sheets, and the next morning 
Peace was borne away to the improvised operating 
room, where only Dr. Coates, the kindly-faced 
stranger physician, their young assistant and the 
nurse were allowed to remain. 

Peace looked about her curiously, murmured 
drowsily “I can’t say I admire your dec ’rations, ” 
and fell asleep under the gentle fumes of the ether. 

It seemed hours later when she awakened to 


HEART OF GOLD 


57 


consciousness and saw about her the white, drawn, 
anxious faces of her loved ones. ‘^Then I^m not 
dead yet,’^ she exclaimed with satisfaction. 
‘‘That’s good. Did you get my back patched up. 
Dr. Coates?” 

The horrible strain was broken. With stifled, 
hysterical sobs, the family hurriedly withdrew, 
and the nurse bent over the bed with her finger 
on her lips as she gently commanded, “Hush, 
childie, you mustn’t talk now. We want you to 
get some sleep so the little back will have a chance 
to heal.” 

‘ ‘ Can I talk when I wake up ? ” Peace demanded 
weakly. 

“Yes, if you are very good.” 

“All right. You can go now. I don’t like folks 
to stare at me when I’m asleep. It d’sturbs my 
slumber.” Closing her eyes once more, she fell 
into a dreamless sleep, and the doctors departed, 
much pleased with the result of their operation. 

The days of convalescence were busy ones in the 
Campbell household, for it required the combined 
efforts of family, nurse, doctor and friends to keep 
the restless patient’s attention occupied. St. John 
and Elizabeth came often to the big house, bring- 
ing Glen or Guiseppe or Lottie to amuse the 
prisoner; Miss Edith laughingly declared that she 
was more frequently found in the Flag Room than 
in her own home; Ted and Evelyn vied with each 
other to see which could run the most errands, 
read the most stories, or propose the most new 
plays during the long vacation hours; and even 


58 


HEART OF GOLD 


busy Aunt Pen found opportunity occasionally to 
steal away for a brief visit with the brown-haired 
sprite who had brought so much joy into her own 
heart and life. 

For a time the operation seemed a decided suc- 
cess, the back appeared to be stronger, the pain 
almost disappeared, and the nurse was no longer 
needed in the sick room. One day a wheel-chair 
was substituted for the bed where Peace had lain 
so many weeks; and for the first time since the ac- 
cident, she was carried out under her beloved 
trees, where she could watch the flowers bud and 
blossom, smell their perfume on each passing 
breeze, and listen to the nesting birds in the 
branches overhead. But the crutches she had so 
fondly dreamed of, which were to teach her to 
walk again, were not forthcoming, and with alarm 
she saw the summer slip rapidly by while she lay 
among the pillows in the garden. 

When she spoke of it to the older sisters, they 
answered cheerily, ‘‘Be patient, girlie, it takes a 
long time for such a hurt to heal,’^ and turned 
their heads away lest she should read the growing 
conviction in their eyes. 

“It’s so hard to be patient,” she protested 
mournfully. “You bet I’ll never climb another 
roof. ’ ’ 

“No,” they sighed sadly to themselves, “I am 
afraid you never will. ’ ’ 

But the cruel truth of the matter was broken to 
poor Peace at a most unexpected moment. She 
was resting under her favorite oak, close to the 


HEART OP GOLD 


59 


library window, one warm afternoon, planning as 
usual for the day when she could walk again ; and 
lulled by the drowsy hum of the bees and the soft 
swish of the leaves above her, she drifted off to 
slumberland. A slanting beam of the setting sun 
waked her as it fell across her face, and she sat 
up abruptly, hardly realizing what had roused her. 
Then she became aware of voices issuing from the 
library beyond, and Allee’s agonized voice cried 
out, ‘^0, Grandpa, you don^t mean that she will 
never ^ never walk again! Must she lie there all the 
rest of her life like the Lilac Lady and Sadie 
Wenzell until the angels come and get her! 
Grandpa, must she die like they did!’’ 

With a startled gasp. Peace leaned forward in 
her chair, then sank back among the pillows with 
a dreadful, sickening sensation grippng at her 
heart. They were talking about her ! She strained 
her ears to catch the President’s reply, but could 
hear only an indistinct rumble of voices mingled 
with Allee’s sharp sobs. So the angels had car- 
ried Sadie Wenzell to her home beyond the Gates! 
Idly she wondered when it had happened and 
why she had not been told. It had been one of her 
dearest plans to visit Sadie some day and see for 
herself how she enjoyed the scrapbooks which had 
cost Peace so much labor and lament. Now Sadie 
was gone. 

‘‘Grandpa, Grandpa, why couldn’t / have been 
the one to fall and hurt my back!” wailed the 
shrill voice from the open window. “ ’Twouldn’t 
have made so much difference then, but Peace! — 


60 


HEART OF GOLD 


0, Grandpa, I can hear to think of her lying there 
all the long years — 

Again the voice trailed away into silence, and 
Peace lay stunned by the significance of the 
words. All her life chained to a chair! All her 
life a helpless invalid like the Lilac Lady! The 
black night of despair descended about her and 
swallowed her up. 

They thought her asleep when they came to 
wheel her into the house before the dew should 
fall ; and as she did not stir when they laid her in 
the white swan bed, they stole softly away and 
left her in the grip of the demon Despair. 

So this was what the Lilac Lady had meant when 
she had said so bitterly, ‘‘You will turn your face 
to the wall, say good-bye to those who you thought 
were your friends, build a high fence around you 
and hide — hide from the world and everything!’’ 
The words came back to her with a startling dis- 
tinctness and a great sob rose in her throat. 

“What is it, darling I” asked a gentle voice 
from the darkness, and Peace, clutching wildly 
for some human support in her hour of anguish, 
threw her arms about the figure kneeling at her 
bedside, and cried in terror, “O, Grandma, I can*t, 
I canUr 

“Can’t what?” asked the sweet voice, thinking 
the child was a victim of some bad dream, for she 
never suspected that Peace could know the dread- 
ful truth. 

“I can^t stay here all the rest of my life! I 
wasn’t made for the bed. My feet won't keep still. 


HEART OF GOLD 


61 


I must run and shout. 0, Grandma, tell me it 
isn’t true!” 

But the gentle voice was silent, and the woman’s 
tears mingling with those of the grief-stricken 
child told the story. Clasping the quivering little 
body more tightly in her arms, the silvery-haired 
grandmother sobbed without restraint until the 
child ’s grief was spent, and from sheer exhaustion 
Peace fell asleep. 

Then, loosing the grip of the slender hands, now 
grown so thin and white, she laid her burden back 
on the bed, and as she kissed the wet cheeks and 
left the weary slumberer to her troubled dreams, 
she whispered sadly, ‘‘Good-night, little Peace, — 
and good-bye. We have lost our merry little 
sprite. It will be a different Peace who wakens 
with the morrow.” 


CHAPTER V 


THE LILAC lady's MESSAGE 

Mercifully, Peace slept long the next morning, 
and it was not until the sun was high in the sky 
that she opened her eyes to her surroundings. 
Then it was with a heavy sense of something 
wrong, and she stared uneasily about her, trying 
to remember what was the trouble. 

‘‘I feel as if I VI done something bad,” she said 
half aloud, ‘‘but I canT think of a thing.” 

The sound of Allee’s footsteps creeping softly 
along the hall and a glimpse of an awed, tear- 
stained face peering at her from the doorway sud- 
denly recalled to her mind the scene of yesterday, 
and the bitter truth rushed over her with agoniz- 
ing keenness. She could never walk again! All 
her days must be spent in a wheel-chair, a helpless 
prisoner! The Lilac Lady was right, — she wanted 
to turn her face to the wall, to say good-bye to 
her friends and hide, — hide from the world and 
everything! 

“Peace,” whispered a timid voice from the 
doorway, where Allee had paused, uncertain 
whether to stay or to depart. 

The invalid stiffened. 

“Peace, are you awake?” persisted the pleading 
voice, for the brown eyes stared unblinkingly 

63 


64 


HEART OF GOLD 


straight ahead of her, and not a muscle of her 
tense body moved. ‘ ^ May I come in and sit beside 
you?^^ 

‘^No!’’ screamed Peace in sudden frenzy, almost 
paralyzing the little petitioner on the threshold. 

away! You can walk and run and jump, and 
I never can again. YouVe got two whole legs to 
amuse yourself with and mine are no good. Get 
out of here! I don^t want to see anyone with legs 
today — or tomorrow — or ever again!’’ Jerking 
the pillow slip over her eyes she sobbed 
convulsively, and Allee, with one terrified look 
at the quivering heap under the bed-clothes, 
rushed pellmell from the room, blinded by scald- 
ing tears. 

Peace had sent her away! Peace did not want 
her, — would not have her any more! It was the 
greatest catastrophe of her short life to be ban- 
ished by Peace; and stumbling with unseeing eyes 
down the hall, she ran headlong into the arms of 
someone just coming up the stairs. 

‘‘Why — ” began a husky, rumbling voice, and 
Allee, thinking it was the President on his way to 
the sick-room, sobbed out, “0, Grandpa, she sent 
me away! She says she never wants to see a pair 
of good legs again. You better — ” 

“It’s not Grandpa, little one,” interrupted the 
other voice. “It’s I, — St. John. Do you think 
she will let me in? Because I have come espe- 
cially to see her. ’ ’ 

But a sharp, imperative voice from the Flag 
Room answered them. “Come back, Allee, I’m 


HEART OF GOLD 


65 


sorry I don’t like the looks of legs today, but I 
want you just the same, — legs and all.” 

For an instant Allee looked unbelievingly up 
into Mr. Strong’s eyes, as if doubtful that she had 
heard aright; then as the minister gave her a 
gentle push toward the door, she bounded lightly 
away, and when the Hill Street pastor reached 
the threshold the two sisters were locked fast in 
each other’s arms. 

All at once, through the tangle of Allee ’s curls, 
the brown eyes spied the form of her beloved 
friend hesitating in the doorway; but instead of 
looking surprised at his presence. Peace pushed 
the little sister from her and demanded fiercely, as 
if his being there were the most natural thing in 
the world, ^ ^ Make faces at me, St. J ohn, — the very 
worst you know how.” 

‘‘Why, my dear — ” stammered the young 
minister, as much amazed at his reception as he 
could have been had she dashed a cup of water in 
his face. “Why, Peace, I don’t believe — ” 

“Of course you know how to make faces!” she 
interrupted scornfully. “Do you s’pose I’ve for- 
gotten that day in Parker down by the barn? 
Make some now, — the most hijious ones you can 
think of. ’ ’ 

There was nothing to do but to comply with her 
strange whim; so, rumpling up his thick, shining 
black hair, he proceeded to distort his comely 
features into the most surprising contortions im- 
aginable. But with the heavy ache in his heart 
and a growing lump in his throat at the pitifulness 


66 


HEART OF GOLD 


of her plight, he was not real successful in divert- 
ing her unhappy thoughts, and with a mournful 
wail of woe she burst into tears. 

‘^My child he cried contritely, and in an in- 
stant his strong arms closed about the huddled 
figure, and he held her fast, crooning softly in her 
ear as a mother might over her babe, until at 
length the convulsive gasps eased, grew less 
frequent, and finally ceased. 

There was a long-drawn, quivering sigh, a last 
gulp or two and Peace hiccoughed, ‘‘It’s no use, 
St. John. I can’t coax up a ghost of a smile from 
anywhere. I’ve thunk of all the funniest things 
that ever happened to me or anyone else; I’ve 
scratched my brains to ’member the funny stories 
I s’lected for Sadie Wenzell’s bunch of scrap- 
books; I’ve even pretended the funniest things I 
could imagine, but it won ’t work. I knew if there 
was a sign of a laugh left inside of me, your hor- 
rible faces would bring it out. It did in Parker, 
when I thought I never could smile again. But 
this time — get your legs out of sight, — under the 
bed, — anywhere so’s I can’t see them. I don’t 
like their looks!” 

Had the situation been less tragic, he could not 
have refrained from laughing at the ludicrous way 
she bristled up and snapped out her command; 
but mindful only of the great trouble which had 
suddenly overshadowed the young life, he hastily 
tucked his long limbs out of sight under the edge 
of the bed, slumped as far down in his chair as he 
possibly could, and fell to energetically stroking 


HEART OF GOLD 


67 


the brown curls tumbled about the hot, flushed 
face, as he vainly tried to think of some comfort- 
ing words with which to soothe the rebellious, 
sorrowful child. 

From below came the sound of a voice singing 
softly, and though the words were indistinguish- 
able, the three occupants of the Flag Room caught 
snatches of the tune Peace loved so well, the 
Gleaners’ Motto Song. Recalling the days when 
the brown-eyed child had made the little Hill 
Street parsonage ring with this very melody, the 
preacher unconsciously began to chant, 

‘‘ ‘When the days are gloomy. 

Sing some happy song. 

Meet the world’s repining 
With a courage strong; 

Go with faith undaunted 
Through the ills of life. 

Scatter smiles and sunshine 
0 ’er its toil and strife. ’ ’ ’ 

“Well, don’t it beat all?” exclaimed Peace 
wearily. 

“Doesn’t what beat all?” mildly inquired the 
pastor, as she made no effort to explain her words. 

“How some folks will wear a tune to a frazzle,” 
was the disconcerting reply. “There’s Faith, 
now, she hasn’t played anything for days ’xcept 
^Carve-a4eery~rusty~cannerr And when it ain’t 
that it’s * Nose-arts Snorter,^ or those wretched 
archipelagoes, I’m so sick of ’em all that I could 


68 


HEART OF GOLD 


shout when she touches the piano. As for that 
song you were just droning, — ^why, everyone in 
this house seems to think it^s the only thing 
going. There is nothing left of it now but 
tatters. ’ ^ 

The preacher had abruptly ceased his hum- 
ming, and as Allee crept quietly from the room 
to hush the singer below, he suddenly remembered 
a commission given him by his wife ; and fumbling 
in his pocket, he drew out a small book, daintily 
bound in white and gold. ‘ ‘ Elspeth sent you this 
booklet, dear,’’ he ventured, somewhat timidly, 
for after two such rebuffs as he had received in 
his endeavor to cheer the sufferer, he was at a loss 
to know what to say or do next. ‘^She could not 
come today herself, but she thought this little 
story might please you. ’ ’ 

‘‘Thanks,” replied Peace, dropping the volume 
on the pillow without a spark of interest in face 
or voice. “I’d rather have seen her. She has got 
some sense. Books haven’t. I’ve been stuffed so 
full of stories, I am ready to bu’st.” Then, as if 
fearing that she had been rude to this dearest of 
friends, she added hastily, “But I s’pose there is 
room for one more. It must be good or Elspeth 
wouldn’t have sent it. What is it about?” 

“It’s the story of a little girl named Gwen, who 
fell from — ” 

Peace stopped him with a peremptory wave of 
her hand. “That will do for the present,” she 
said coldly, in such exact imitation of Miss Phelps 
that no one who had ever met the teacher could 


HEART OF GOLD 


69 


possibly mistake her tone. ‘‘I don’t like the 
name. It sounds like ‘grin’.” 

The minister rubbed his head in perplexity. 
Never in all his acquaintance with Peace had he 
seen her in such a mood. Was this child among 
the pillows really Peace, the sunbeam of this 
home, the sunbeam of every home she chanced to 
enter? Poor little girl! What a pity such a ter- 
rible misfortune should have befallen her! She 
stirred uneasily, and he hurriedly asked, “Would 
you rather I should go away and leave you 
alone ? ’ ’ 

“No! O, no!” She clutched one big hand closer 
with both of hers, and a look of alarm leaped into 
her eyes, so heavy with weeping. “It’s easier — 
the pain here,” laying one thin hand over her 
heart, “it’s easier with you here. I wish you had 
brought Elspeth.” 

“She will come' some other day,” he answered 
gently, glad to see a more natural expression 
creep over the white face, though his heart ached 
at the sorrowful tone of her voice. “What would 
you like to have me do? Talk?” 

“Yes, if you’ve anything int ’resting to say,” 
she murmured drowsily. 

“And if not?” For he saw that it would be 
only a matter of minutes before she would be in 
the Land of Nod again. 

“Then just hold me. I’m tired,” she answered 
wearily 

So he sat and held her on her pillows until her 
regular breathing told him that she was fast 


70 


HEART OF GOLD 


asleep, when, laying her back upon the bed, he 
left her with a heavy heart. 

never dreamed that a child so young could 
take it so hard,’^ he confided to his wife in 
troubled tones when he had told her the whole 
sad story. ‘‘She seems to have grown old in a 
night. ’ ^ 

“Poor little birdie, Elizabeth tenderly mur- 
mured, stroking the dark hair from her sleeping 
son’s forehead as she laid him in his crib for his 
nap. ‘ ‘ Why did they tell her so soon 1 The family 
themselves haven’t grown accustomed to the 
meaning of it yet.” 

“No one knows how she learned it, Elspeth. 
She was asleep under the trees when the Presi- 
dent came home with the sad news. He had been 
to consult that famous specialist about the child’s 
condition when the surgeon told him that the case 
was hopeless, so far as her walking again is con- 
cerned. He was so unmanned by the verdict that 
he blurted it out to Mrs. Campbell immediately 
upon his return home, and the girls overheard it. 
But Peace was out-of-doors all the while. She 
didn’t waken for dinner; but when everyone was 
in bed, Mrs. Campbell heard her crying, and went 
to discover what was the matter. They are ter- 
ribly broken up about the whole affair. It seems 
wicked to say so, but had the accident happened 
to any other of the sisters, it would not have 
seemed so dreadful. What is Peace ever going to 
do without those nimble, dancing feet?” 


HEART OF GOLD 


71 


‘‘Our Peace will surprise us yet/^ prophesied 
the little wife hopefully. “This experience wonT 
down her, hard as it seems now, if she is made of 
the stuff I think she is.^’ 

But as the days rolled by in that afflicted house- 
hold, it really seemed as if they had lost their 
engaging, winsome little Peace for all time, so 
changed did the invalid grow. Nothing suited 
her, everything annoyed. The girls talked too 
much or were too silent; the servants were too 
noisy or too obviously quiet; the President's shoes 
clumped and his slippers squeaked; Mrs. Camp- 
bell always pulled the curtains too low or not 
low enough. The dogs’ barking fretted her, 
the singing of the canary made her peevish, even 
the cat’s purring brought forth a protest; but as 
soon as the unreasonable patient discovered that 
all the pets had been banished on her account, she 
demanded them back. However, the long-suffer- 
ing members of the family could not find it in their 
hearts to chide, and they redoubled their efforts 
to make their little favorite forget. Those were 
gloomy days in the Campbell household, for they 
sadly missed the merry laughter, the gay whistle, 
the unexpected pranks and frank speeches of this 
child of the sunshine and out-of-doors. At first 
they had tried to be cheerful and full of fun in the 
sick-room, hoping to win back the merry smile to 
the white lips; but Peace resented this attitude, 
and straightway they ceased their songs and 
laughter, only to have her demand them again. 
Unhappy, capricious Peace! 


72 


HEAKT OF GOLD 


‘^Why don’t you play on the piano any more?” 
she inquired of Faith one afternoon, when it was 
that sister’s turn to amuse the invalid for an hour 
or two. 

‘^Do you want me to?” cried Faith eagerly, for 
her fingers were just itching to glide over the ivory 
keys. 

‘^Of course, — s ’posing you play something 
pretty. ’ ’ 

So Faith took her place at her beloved instru- 
ment and dashed into a brilliant, rattling jig which 
had always been a favorite of the brown-haired 
sister. 

But she had played scarcely a dozen measures 
when a shrill, imperious voice from above 
shrieked, ‘‘Don’t play that! O, stop, stop! 
Can’t you see it’s got legs?” 

“Legs?” wondered Faith, her hands poised in 
mid air, so abruptly had she ceased her playing. 

‘ ‘ There ’s a million pair of legs to that tune and 
every one of ’em can dance. Play something 
without legs.” 

The utter ridiculousness of the complaint did 
not occur to Faith, but with an unusual display of 
patience, she tried air after air, hoping to find 
something which might satisfy the childish whim 
of the lame sister, only to be rewarded at last by a 
peevish call, “You may as well give it up. Faith. 
They’ve all got legs.” 

The entire family was at their wits’ end. No 
one had a sane suggestion to offer, and their hosts 
of friends were in the same predicament. When 


HEART OF GOLD 


73 


it seemed as if something must surely give way 
under the strain, Peace suddenly subsided into a 
state of utter indifference to her surroundings, 
more alarming to her loved ones than had been 
her peevish, unreasonable demands. Nothing in- 
terested her, books she loathed, conversation 
bored her, neighborly calls from her dearest 
friends wearied her, she no longer yearned for the 
sunshine and flowers of the garden; indeed, she 
showed no desire to be out-of-doors at all, but lay 
day after day in the wheel-chair by the balcony 
window, staring with somber, unseeing eyes out 
over the river. Nothing family or friends could 
do roused her from her apathy, and despair de- 
scended upon the household. Must this little life 
which they loved so dearly fade away before their 
eyes, and they helpless to prevent? 

‘‘O, Donald,’’ sobbed Mrs. Campbell, clinging 
desperately to her husband’s strong arm, can- 
not bear it, I cannot bear it! She takes it so hard! 
It is torture to watch her suffer so. Our precious 
Peace!” 

‘‘If only her St. Elizabeth could come to her!” 
sighed the baffled President. 

But it was not her beloved saint of the parson- 
age who saved the day. It was her Lilac Lady, 
now sleeping under the sod of the wind-kissed 
hillside, and Aunt Pen was her messenger. 

It was a breathless, sultry afternoon in late sum- 
mer when the sweet-faced matron of Oak Knoll 
turned in at the President’s gate and sought out 
the invalid lying motionless under the oak trees 


74 


HEART OF GOLD 


where the fierce heat had driven her. The little 
face among the pillows was no longer rosy and 
round; blue veins showed at the temples, the lips 
were colorless, the eyes hollow; the hands, once so 
brown and strong, were thin and waxy- white; the 
whole body lay inert, — lifeless, it seemed; and a 
pang of fear gripped the gentle heart brooding 
so tenderly over the poor wrecked life. 

‘‘Are you asleep, darling!’’ she whispered 
softly, touching with light fingers the clustering 
rings of dark brown which covered the shapely 
head. 

The mournful eyes opened dully, and Peace 
murmured parrot fashion, ‘ ‘ Good-afternoon, Aunt 
Pen. I hope you keep well these hot days. You 
must take care of yourself, you know. ’ ’ 

Secretly amazed, the woman merely stooped and 
kissed the white face, as she settled herself com- 
fortably in a nearby chair and cheerily answered, 
“Yes, I am well, dear, and all the little birdlings 
are, too. I intended to bring Guiseppe and his 
violin this afternoon, but — ” 

“It’s just as well you didn’t,” interrupted the 
other voice in lifeless tones. “Prob’ly his music 
has legs, too, and I haven’t any use for such things 
these days.” 

“But he had promised to play for a dear old 
lady at the Home,” continued Aunt Pen, as if 
she had not noticed the interruption. “So I 
brought you — ” 

‘ ‘ Some more magazines, ’ ’ again broke in Peace, 
perceiving the gay covers in the woman’s hand. 


HEART OF GOLD 


75 


‘^That was very kind of you, I^m sure, but I have 
a whole libr’y at my — at my ^^-mand. So you 
put yourself to a lot of trouble all for nothing. ^ ’ 

‘‘This is a different kind of magazine from any 
you have,’’ replied the woman soberly, though 
sorely tempted to smile at the stilted, unnatural 
tones of her little favorite. 

“Is it?” Just a spark of interest flickered in 
the somber eyes. “Why, I thought I had the whole 
c ’lection already. Folks seem to think I don’t 
want to do anything but read, and they keep the 
house pretty well filled up with magazines, old 
and new. Last week I had xAllee telephone to the 
Salvation Army to come and get them. But it 
didn’t do any good, — we’ve had as many more 
brought in since.” 

“This is the one your Lilac Lady was reading 
when she — fell asleep,” said xAunt Pen gently, a 
little catch in her voice as she thought of Peace, 
doomed to spend the rest of her days in a wheel- 
chair, just as that other girl, the Lilac Lady, had 
done. 

“ Oh ! And you brought it to me ! I sh ’d think 
you would want to keep it yourself. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I did, dearie. I laid it away among my treas- 
ures, but today I chanced upon it, and in turning 
the pages, I caught a glimpse of a slip of paper 
written on, in her handwriting. I had not ex- 
amined the book since the day I picked it up from 
the floor beside her chair; but this morning I 
drew out the scrap she had written and found a 
little message for you — ” 


76 


HEART OF GOLD 


‘ ‘ For me ? ^ ’ Incredulous surprise animated the 
white face. 

‘‘Yes, dear. Some verses she had written that 
last hour, — not even complete. I know she in- 
tended them for you. Perhaps she felt that she 
would be — asleep — before you came, so she wrote 
a little message for you. Peace, but I never found 
it until today. Would you care to have me read 
it to youP^ 

“Let me read it, please.’’ Peace snatched the 
paper eagerly and with jealous eyes scanned the 
simple stanzas penned so many months ago for 
just that very moment. 

“ Up the garden pathway. 

Light as the morning air. 

Singing and laughing gayly, 

A child with face so fair 
Dances with arms outreaching. 

Her eyes ashine with glee. 

Nor pauses until she reaches 
The chair ’neath the old oak tree, 

Where, chained by mortal weakness, 

I lie from day to day 
Waiting my darling’s coming. — 

Ah! could I keep her alway! — 

Child of flowers and sunshine. 

Child of laughter and love, 

Peace, — a God-given blessing, 

Straight from the heavens above. 


HEART OP GOLD 


77 


Bringing the breath of the woodland, 

The perfume of sun-kissed flowers, 

The freshness of vagrant breezes. 

The sweetness of cooling showers; 
Bringing the thrilling music 
Of skylarks ^nd forest birds. 

Heart-healing, soul-cheering measures. 
Wondrous songs without words. 

Peace, — oh, how can I tell it? — 

The marvelous peace you have brought. 
The wonderful lessons of living 
Your generous spirit has taught. 

Easing the burden of sorrow. 

Soothing the sharp sting of pain. 

Bringing fresh aspirations, — 

My Peace gives me hope again! 

Once, twice, three times she read the lines. Then 
turning puzzled, wondering eyes upon Aunt Pen, 
she whispered eagerly, ^‘What does it all mean, 
please? Did she really feel that way. Aunt Pen? 
Did I scatter sunshine after all? Was she happier 
when I was with her? O, did I — ^make her — 
forget?’^ 

* ‘ More than you will ever know, ’ ’ answered the 
woman warmly, squeezing the thin fingers lying 
across her knee. ‘‘You brought back the sunshine 
she thought had gone out of her life forever. You 
gave her something to live for, something to do. 


78 


HEART OF GOLD 


made life seem worth while. 0, my little Peace, 
it is just as the poem tells you, — you gave her 
hoper 

For a long time the child lay lost in thought, 
and only the faint rustling of the leaves overhead 
broke the stillness. Then she said sadly, glancing 
down at the useless feet in their gay slippers, 
‘‘But I had my legs then/* 

“You have your smile now. A happy heart is 
worth more than a dozen pair of legs, dear. It 
was your merry voice, your gay laughter, your 
joyous nature that cheered your Lilac Lady. 
Surely you didn T lose all those when you lost the 
use of your feet ! ’ * 

Peace smiled ruefully. “You’d have thought so 
if you had lived with me since I got hurt,” she 
confessed. 

“I don’t believe it,” Aunt Pen vigorously con- 
tradicted. “Our real Peace, our little sunbeam 
has just been hiding under a dark cloud all this 
while. She is coming back to us her own gay self 
some day, — soon, we hope. ’ ’ 

“Do you b’lieve that?” Peace eagerly de- 
manded. 

“I know it,” the woman answered with con- 
viction. 

“But s ’posing I have really forgotten how to 
laugh and — and whistle, and be nice?” 

“Pshaw! As if you could have forgotten all 
that, dear! But even then, it is never too late to 
learn, you know.” 

‘ ‘ That ’s so. And maybe after a bit it would be 


HEART OF GOLD 


79 


easier. I— guess I’ll — try to learn — again, Aunt 
Pen. May I keep this little poem so’s I won’t 
forget any more? It’s really mine, for she wrote 
it for me, didn’t she?” 

‘^Yes, indeed, darling. That’s your message. 
You helped your Lilac Lady, and now she is going 
to help you.” 



CHAPTER VI 


THE PARSONAGE TWINS 

‘‘Peace, Peace, guess what’s happened!” 

Allee tore across the smooth, green lawn as if 
racing for her life; and Cherry, following hard 
upon her heels, panted protestingly, “I’m going to 
tell her. It’s my right. I heard what he said 
first.” 

“I don’t care if you did,” retorted Allee. “I 
reached her chair first. So now!” 

It was just a week since Aunt Pen’s visit to the 
President’s house, but already a remarkable 
change had come over the little invalid in her 
wheel-chair prison. The dull indifference had dis- 
appeared from the thin face, the hopeless look 
from the somber eyes; and though there was still 
a sadly pathetic droop to the once merry mouth, 
she seemed to have shaken off the deadly apathy 
which had gripped her for so long, and to have 
taken a fresh hold upon life again. True, it was 
hard work to smile and look happy with the dread- 
ful knowledge tugging at one’s heart that one 
must be a helpless cripple for the rest of her days, 
but the first smile had made it easier for the 
second to come, and gradually the old merry dis- 
position came creeping back. Aunt Pen was 
right, — her real self had only been in hiding, and 


81 


82 


HEART OF GOLD 


with the lifting of the cloud the sunshine of that 
gay spirit burst forth again. 

She was tired of being idle, and with charac- 
teristic energy that very morning had surprised 
and delighted the whole household by demanding 
something to do, — some real work with which to 
fill the long hours. And Miss Smiley had 
promptly suggested Indian baskets, spending 
many precious minutes of a busy forenoon teach- 
ing the weak fingers how to weave. Peace was 
a-tingle with pride over her accomplishment, espe- 
cially when she was told of its possibilities and 
scope; and straightway began planning to send 
her first finished product to the State Fair which 
was to open its gates soon. 

So as she wrestled with the damp raffia and wil- 
low sticks after Miss Edith had left her, she so 
far forgot her trouble that the old, familiar laugh 
bubbled up to her lips, and once she paused in her 
work to answer a trilling bird in the branches 
overhead. She was all alone on the wide, shady 
lawn, and so engrossed in her own thoughts that 
she never heard the chug-chug of a motor-car 
gliding up the river road, nor saw the black- 
frocked figure leap nimbly from the machine and 
scurry up the walk to the kitchen door, as if in 
too big a hurry to enter the house in the proper 
manner. But she did hear the boisterous shouts 
of Cherry and Allee a few moments later, as they 
burst through the screen door and raced through 
the short, sweet clover toward her, each clamoring 
to tell her the news which stuck out all over them. 


HEART OF GOLD 


83 


‘‘I reached her first!’’ Allee repeated, waving 
the older sister off. 

‘^Pig!” returned Cherry. “You always — ” 

“Tut, tut,” interrupted a voice from behind, in 
tones of mock severity. “Are you girls quarrel- 
ing? I’m ashamed of you. Peace, what is it all 
about ? ’ ’ 

Mr. Strong, light of step and radiant of face, 
appeared on the scene by another path ; and Peace, 
flinging down the raffia basket which her busy 
fingers were weaving, stretched out eager arms in 
welcome. “It’s something they both wanted to 
tell me, St. John, hut they stopped to scrap about 
it, and I hain’t heard what it is yet.” 

“Bet you meant to steal my thunder, didn’t 
you?” He turned merry, accusing eyes upon the 
pair of culprits, and they flushed guiltily. “But 
you just aren’t going to do it this time. I shall 
tell her myself. It is my news, you know.” 

Both heads bobbed solemnly, and Peace, excited 
and not understanding, cried imperiously, “Tell 
me quick. I’m half dead with curiosity. Has old 
Tortoise-shell got some more kittens or — Say, you 
haven’t put Glen in pants yet?” 

“No,” he laughed delightedly and the two 
sisters giggled in glee. “Guess again. It hap- 
pened last night. ’ ’ 

“Somebody sent you a present?” 

“The most wonderful gift!” 

“Two of ’em,” put in impatient Allee, hut the 
minister held up a warning finger, and she quickly 
subsided. 


84 


HEART OF GOLD 


‘ ‘ Two ! ’ ^ repeated Peace, much mystified. 
‘^What can they be? Oh, I know — monkeys!’’ 
For ever since the day that Peace had brought 
the sick, half-dead monkey home to the parsonage, 
it had been Glen’s fondest dream to own one 
himself. 

‘‘No!” Mr. Strong and the other two girls ex- 
ploded in a gale of laughter. 

“Give it up then,” Peace promptly retorted. 
“I mightn’t guess in a hundred years and I’m 
fairly bu ’sting to know.” 

“Well, girlie, the angels brought us two little 
babies last night for our very own. Two! Think 
of it!” 

“Twins!” gurgled Allee, ecstatically hopping 
from one foot to the other. 

“Both girls!” added Cherry, hugging herself 
from sheer joy at being part bearer of the glad 
tidings. 

“Truly, St. John?” asked Peace, almost too 
amazed for words. 

“Truly, my lady.” 

“Well, what do you think of that! I bet you 
were s ’prised. Now weren’t you? What do they 
look like ? Are they pretty ? ’ ’ 

“I can’t say they are very beautiful to look at 
yet,” admitted the fond father. “They resemble 
scraps of wrinkled red flannel more than anything 
else just now. But they will improve. Glen did, 
and he was a caution to look at when he was only 
a day old.” 

“Are they big or little?” 


HEAET OF GOLD 


85 


‘‘Neither is very large, but one is tinier than the 
other, — weighs only four pounds. She isn’t such 
a brilliant scarlet as her sister, and we think she 
will have dark eyes and black hair. The reddest 
one has blue eyes now, is bald-headed, and pos- 
sesses a most excellent pair of lungs. The Tiniest 
One has cried only once so far, but its twin makes 
up for it. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ What are their names 1 ’ ’ The three girls hung 
breathlessly on his answer. 

“That’s one reason I am here now,” the min- 
ister replied gravely. “Elspeth and I couldn’t 
discover any suitable names for the twinnies, so 
she sent me down here to consult with Peace — ” 

“O — ee!” squealed the girls. 

“Mercy!” whispered Peace in awed amaze- 
ment. “Does she really want me to name her 
babies?” 

“Shouldn’t you like to?” 

“O, so much! But most mothers would thank 
other folks to let them do their own naming. Or, 
if the mothers didn’t mind, prob’ly the children 
themselves would kick when they grew up. There 
was our family, for one. Grandpa Greenfield 
named the most of us, and see what a job he made 
of it. He went to the Bible for us, too. ’ ’ 

The minister’s lips twitched, but Peace was so 
very serious that he dared not laugh ; so, after an 
apologetic cough behind his hand, he suggested 
politely, “Then suppose we arrange it this way, — 
if the first names you select don’t suit, we will 
tell you so, and you can pick out some others.” 


86 


HEART OF GOLD 


‘^0, don’t I have to think them np today? I 
s ’posed you would want ’em right away. 
Grandpa named us the first time he looked at us, 
Gail says.” 

‘^Well, we needn’t be in such a big hurry as 
that, girlie. It took us a month to decide what we 
should call our boy, and if you want that long a 
time, take it. ’ ’ 

‘ ^ I don ’t think I shall, ’ ’ she replied, viewing her 
unusual and unexpected privilege with serious 
eyes. ‘ ‘ Not being a mother or a father, I don ’t ex- 
pect it will take me more ’n a few days to find very 
pretty names.” Then, as if struck by an im- 
portant thought, she asked, ^‘But how will you 
Christian them, s ’posing I don’t hit on some likely 
names before a month is up?” 

‘^Christian them?” 

‘‘Yes. Like they did Tommy Finnegan’s baby 
brother. He was only seven days old, but he had 
to have a name before the priest could Christian 
him. ’ ’ 

“Oh!” Mr. Strong was enlightened. “There 
is no set time in our church for christening babies, 
dear. We call it baptizing in our church, and 
sometimes parents don’t have their children bap- 
tized until they are old enough to understand for 
themselves what it means.” 

“Then you won’t be having the twins chris — 
baptizzened for some time yet?” 

“No, probably not until Children’s Day — ” 

“Why, that’s already gone by! There won’t 
be another until next summer ! ’ ’ 


HEART OF GOLD 


87 


‘‘Next June. But that is usually the time we 
perform that ceremony in our church, although 
any other time is just as good.^’ 

“Well, Idl have your children named by that 
time, — don’t you fret. Allee, won’t you bring me 
‘Hill’s Evangel’ from the Library? I ’member 
that has strings of names in it. ’ ’ 

“ ‘Hill’s Manual,’ ” corrected the preacher, 
picking up his hat and preparing to depart. 

“Is it? St. John says it is ‘Hill’s Emanuel,’ ” 
she called after the fleeing sister. “It’s a big 
dirty-red book and you will find it in the furthest 
corner of the bookcase on the next to the lowest 
shelf. Why, St. John, must you hustle away so 
soon? You’ve hardly got here yet. Perhaps I 
could have some names ready for you to take 
home with you if you’d wait a while longer.” 

‘ ‘ Thanks, Peace, ’ ’ he bowed courteously. ‘ ‘ But 
I must hurry home and mind the kiddies. There 
is no one there to look after them and Elspeth ex- 
cept the nurse and Aunt Pen. I told them I 
shouldn’t be gone but a few minutes, and here it 
is almost an hour. Good-bye, Peace. Good-bye, 
Cherry. I’ll come again soon.” 

“Good-bye, St. John, and next time bring the 
twins with you.” 

“O, Peace,” gasped Allee, who was just return- 
ing with the heavy book in her short arms, and 
overheard the sister’s parting admonition; 
“they’re too fresh yet. Grandma says it will 
prob’ly be several weeks ’fore they get taken 
anywhere. ’ ’ 


88 


HEAKT OF GOLD 


The preacher, convulsed with laughter, glanced 
back over his shoulder and seeing the look of dis- 
appointment in the brown eyes, rashly promised, 
‘‘This shall be the first place they visit, girlies, 
and we’ll bring them just as soon as they are old 
enough. ’ ’ 

So he swung out of sight down the driveway, 
and Peace turned to her delightful task of finding- 
suitable names for the little strangers at the 
parsonage. 

“They ought to begin with the same letter,” 
suggested Cherry, wishing it had fallen to her lot 
to name a pair of twins, “like Hazel and Helen 
Bean.” 

“Or else rhyme with each other, ’ ’ put in excited 
Allee, thinking it a most wonderful privilege 
which had been granted Peace, “like Pearl and 
Beryl Whittaker. ’ ’ 

“Or they might suggest the same thing,” ven- 
tured Hope, who had heard the good news and had 
come out to see what progress the favored sister 
was making. “For instance. Opal and Getmet 
Ordway. The opal and the garnet are precious 
stones, you know.” 

These twins are precious babies,” interrupted 
Peace in decided accents, “and we shan’t call them 
such heathenish names as stones. This book, now, 
has a long line of names, — here it is, — and there 
ought to be some pretty ones amongst them, 
though I can’t say the a! s sound very nice. 
There is only one decent one in the bunch and 
that’s Abigail.” 


HEART OF GOLD 


89 


Hope, leaning over the back of her chair, 
scanned the list beginning with a! s and thought- 
fully read aloud, ‘‘Abigail, Achsa, Ada, Adaline, 
Addie, Adela, Adelaide, Adora, Agatha, Agnes, 
Alethea, Alexandra, Alice, Almeda, Amanda, 
Amarilla, Amy, Angeline, Anna, Annabel, Antoi- 
nette, Augusta, Aurelia, Aurora, Avis, — that last 
one isn^t so bad — 

“It isn’t so good, either,” Peace retorted. “It 
sounds like the thing you fall into when you 
tumble off a steep mountain. I wouldn’t want a 
baby of mine called that.” 

“Abyss, you mean,” suggested Hope, when the 
other sisters looked mystified. “No one else would 
ever think of such a thing.” 

“No one else needs to. I’d do thinking enough 
for all if I tacked such a name on a little baby 
that couldn’t help itself.” 

It was very evident that Peace had taken a deep 
dislike to the name, so Hope said no more, and 
they turned their attention to the next letter with 
no better success. Peace was too critical to be 
easily satisfied, and when the whole list had been 
thoroughly considered several times, she sighed, 
“There is only one nice name on the page.” 

“And that is — f ” Hope ventured. 

“Elizabeth.” 

“But that is Mrs. Strong’s name!” all three 
chorused. 

‘ ‘ Don ’t I know it ? And can ’t a baby be named 
for its mother! Gail was. The only trouble is 
there is no other pretty name to go with it. Noth- 


90 


HEART OF GOLD 


ing rhymes with it, and none of the other e^s are 
nice enough. ’ ’ 

‘‘Hasn^t Mrs. Strong a sister named Esther T’ 
asked Cherry, consulting the list again. 

Ye — s, but since I knew Esther Kern, I’ve lost 
my liking for that name. I can’t bear to think of 
one of those lovely twins growing up into such a 
pug-nosed, freckle-faced sauce-box.” 

‘^Well, here is ^Evelyn,’ — that is pretty enough, 
I’m sure.” 

^‘And Evelyn Smiley would say the baby was 
named for her. I’d sooner call it Peace, and be 
done with it.” 

“Then how about Edith, for Miss Smiley?” 

“It’s too short. Elizabeth has four pieces to it, 
and it wouldn’t be fair to give less than four to 
the other one.” 

So the search for a name went on, and each suc- 
ceeding day found Peace no nearer her goal. 
Whenever the busy pastor appeared for a brief 
chat, she had to own defeat, and beg for a little 
more time. One day a brilliant thought occurred 
to her, and the next time the preacher’s shining 
black head appeared at the gate he was greeted 
with the excited yell, “What is Elspeth’s middle 
name? It isn’t right to call one baby after its 
mother and the other after nobody.” 

“Elspeth has no middle name — ” 

“Neither have I,” sighed Peace. “When I 
marry, my middle name will be Greenfield, but 
until then I haven ’t got any. ’ ’ 

“That’s the way with Elizabeth.” 


HEART OF GOLD 


91 


‘‘I was afraid it would be, but I hoped she would 
be more fortunate than me.’^ 

Another idea buzzed through her brain. 

“What^s your middle name? Maybe we could 
make something out of that.” 

“I am afraid not,” he smiled. ‘‘I was named 
J ohn Solomon, after my two doting grand- 
fathers.” 

‘‘Solomon!” she echoed in great disappoint- 
ment. “Mercy! I wouldn’t name a cat that!” 

“Neither would I,” he agreed quite cheerfully, 
and Peace returned to the much thumbed ‘Hill’s 
Manual’ once more to consider the list of e^s. 

“I’ve a notion to call the Tiniest One Evange- 
line,” she mused. “It’s exactly as long and 
almost as pretty. Only it sounds so much like 
these preachers that get up and rage and dance 
all over the pulpit while they are trying to think 
of what they meant to say. I should hate to think 
of either twin growing up to be a woman preacher, 
’specially the Tiniest One. I always wanted to 
call her Elizabeth, ’cause she is so much gooder 
than the Tiny One, but St. John says she has dark 
eyes. Elspeth’s are blue, so it ought to be the 
blue-eyed baby that’s named for her, I s’pose, 
even if it does cry more. Mercy, in another two 
days the month will be up, and I must have those 
names by then. It’s hard work always to say the 
Tiny One and the Tiniest One.” 

Again she fell into a brown study, but two days 
later found her as undecided as ever, and she con- 
cluded to ask for just one more week in which to 


92 


HEART OF GOLD 


make up her mind. However, when Mr. Strong ap- 
peared for his brief visit that morning, his face 
looked so sadly grave as he bent over the crippled 
child to give her his usual kiss of greeting that 
she cried apprehensively, ‘‘What^s the matter, St. 
J ohn ? Has anything happened to the twins ? ’ ^ 

‘ ^ One of them — the Tiniest One — flew away with 
the angels last night,’’ he answered simply, turn- 
ing his face away that she might not witness his 
grief. 

For a moment his reply dazed her; then she 
threw both arms about his neck, and burst into 
tears, sobbing as if her heart would break, while he 
dumbly sought to soothe her sorrow, by cuddling 
her head on his shoulder and rubbing his quiver- 
ing cheek against hers, for he could not trust his 
voice to speak. 

The first outburst of grief over. Peace shook the 
tears from her eyes, loosened her strangling grasp 
about his neck and gulped, ‘‘Well, that makes the 
naming of them easier, doesn ’t it, St. J ohn 1 I was 
so fussed up to find something nice enough to go 
with Elizabeth, but now we’ll just call the Tiniest 
One ‘Angel Balby’ and be glad that God didn’t lug 
olf both twins. But oh, I do wish He had waited 
a little while longer until I could have seen the two 
live twins. ’ ’ 

So they comforted each other, and when the 
grave-eyed minister left her a few moments later, 
she was smiling ever so faintly, while the heavi- 
ness of his heart had lifted a bit, and he felt better 
for the child’s sympathy. 


HEART OF GOLD 


93 


Sitting alone in her chair under the trees after 
the tall, black-f rocked figure had disappeared 
down the avenue, Peace suddenly heard the voice 
of Mrs. Campbell through the library window 
saying in troubled tones, “I really ought to go up 
to the parsonage myself and see Mrs. Strong in 
person. She would appreciate it more than any- 
thing else, but it is utterly impossible to go today, 
with that Board Meeting to attend to. I suppose 
I might write a little note of condolence now and 
make my call tomorrow, but such things are so 
stiff at best — ’’ 

Abruptly Peace remembered that she had sent 
no message by St. J ohn to her sorrowing Elspeth, 
and with feverish eagerness she caught at her 
grandmother ^s suggestion of a note, turning to the 
table beside her chair where lay the dirty-red book 
which she had consulted so often during the past 
few weeks. 

“Idl write her, too,’’ she decided. ‘‘There are 
some lovely corndolences in this ‘Manual,’ and I 
wouldn’t for the world have her think I didn’t 
care terribly bad because one of her babies has 
died. ’ ’ 

With impatient fingers she turned the worn and 
ragged pages until she found the section she was 
seeking. Then pulling out pen and paper, she 
laboriously copied one of the stilted, old-fashioned 
epistles printed under the title of “Letters of 
Sympathy,” and despatched it, hidden under a 
beautiful spray of white daisies and fern, to the 
little parsonage on the hill. 


94 


HEART OF GOLD 


Elizabeth herself received the badly blotted 
missive, and with startled, mystified eyes, read 
the incongruous words penned by that childish 
hand. 

‘^My dear Friend, — I realize that this letter will 
find you berried in the deepest sorrow at the loss 
of your darling little Angle Baby, and that words 
of mine will be intirely inacqueduct to assawsage 
your overwhelming grief; yet I feel that I must 
write a few words to insure you that I am thinking 
of you and praying for you. If there can be a 
coppersating thought, it is that your darling re- 
turned to the God who gave it pure and unspotted 
by the world’s temptations. The white rose and 
bud I send (Jud says there haint any in blossom, 
so I’ll have to take daisies) I trust you will permit 
to rest upon your darling’s pillow. 

With feelings of deepest symparthy, I remain, 
dear friend, 

Yours very sincerely. 

Peace Greenfield.’’ 

On the other side of the inky sheet were 
scrawled a few almost illegible lines, ‘‘My 
darlingest St. Elspeth, I have neerly squalled my 
eyes out because St. John says your Angle Baby 
has flewn back to Heaven and I wanted it to stay. 
But I am glad you have got another twin so the 
little crib St. John told us about won’t be all empty 
and you will still have one reel live baby to rock to 
sleep besides Glen. This note of corndolence on 


HEART OF GOLD 


95 


the other page is the best I could find. All the 
others were too old. This one fits pretty well, but 
I had to change it a little, and even now it is stiff 
like Grandma says all notes of corndolence are. 
But I guess you will know I am as sorry as can be, 
for I love you and want you to be happy. 

Your Peace.” 

And Elizabeth, looking with tear-dimmed 
eyes from the bungling little note to the lovely, 
snow-white daisies in the box, was strangely 
comforted. 



CHAPTER VII 


AN ENDLESS CHAIN OF LETTERS 

Peace closed the magazine with a reluctant 
sigh. “That/’ she said with decided emphasis on 
the pronoun, “ is a good story. If all orthers wrote 
like that, ’twould make interesting reading.” 

“What was it about?” asked Allee, looking up 
from a gorgeous splash of water-colors which she 
was pleased to call a painting. 

“About a girl named Angelica Regina, who 
started an endless chain of letters to help the 
Ladies’ Aid of her uncle’s church c’lect scraps for 
silk quilts.” 

“Did the ladies ask her to?” 

“Mercy, no! They didn’t have an idea that 
she ’d done such a thing, and they kept wondering 
where in the world all those scraps were coming 
from. Fin’ly it got so bad that the Post Office 
man was real mad and the husbands of the Ladies’ 
Aid got mad, and the ladies themselves got mad 
and wouldn’t take any more bundles that came 
through the mail. ’Twasn’t till then that anyone 
knew ’bout the endless chain of letters. But at 
last one lady s’spected Angelica Regina had done 
the whole thing, and she made her own up to it.” 

“What is an endless chain of letters? I can’t 
see how she worked it. ’ ’ 


97 


98 


HEART OF GOLD 


‘‘Why, don’t you ’member the letter Hope got 
last Christmas asking her to write five more just 
like it and send them to friends of hers?” 

“Well, but that’s only five letters.” 

“Yes, ’twould be if it stopped there, but each 
of those five people had to write five letters more 
and give them to their friends. Five times five 
is twenty-five, and then those twenty-five would 
write five letters. Don’t you see how it would 
keep growing till there would be hundreds and 
hundreds of letters written?” 

Allee nodded solemnly, and Peace fell into a 
brown study. Presently she announced decidedly, 
“I b’lieve I’ll do it. I like the scheme.” 

“Do what? What scheme?” inquired Allee, 
somewhat absently, as she critically surveyed her 
brilliant splotch of color, and wondered if she had 
added enough red to her sunset. 

“I’ll start an endless chain myself.” 

“What do you want silk scraps for?” Alice’s 
brush fell unheeded from her hand, and the blue 
eyes shot an amazed glance up at the figure in the 
wheel-chair. 

“I don’t want any silk scraps, but I can ask for 
something else, can ’t I ? ” 

“What shall you choose?” Allee was now 
alive with curiosity. 

“Well, — I don’t really know — just yet,” Peace 
was obliged to confess. “It wouldn’t be right to 
ask ’em each for a dime, like Hope ’s letter did, to 
endower a hospital bed, ’cause I haven’t got the 
bed, and anyway I don’t need money. Grandpa’s 


HEART OF GOLD 


99 


got enough for us all. Now if we^d just known 
of this plan in Parker, p^raps we could have paid 
off our mortgage without any trouble. ’ ’ 

‘^But then Grandpa wouldn’t have found us, 
and we prob’ly would still be living in the little 
brown house on that farm, ’ ’ responded Allee, with 
a frown. 

‘‘That’s so. I hadn’t thought of that. Well, it 
can’t be money that I’ll ask for, and I don’t want 
silk scraps. Just now I can’t think of a thing I 
want real bad which Grandpa can’t get for me, — 
’nless it is buttons. ’ ’ 

“Buttons!” repeated Allee, wondering if Peace 
had lost her senses altogether. “What do you 
want buttons for? What kind of buttons? Ain’t 
your clothes got enough buttons on ’em now? 
Grandma — ” 

“ Sh I ” Peace cautioned, for in her surprise Allee 
had unconsciously raised her voice almost to a 
yell. ‘ ‘ I don ’t mean that kind of buttons. I mean 
fancy ones just for a c ’lection.” 

“But what good will a c ’lection of buttons be?” 
demanded Allee, more puzzled than before. 
‘ ‘ What can you use ’em for ? ’ ’ 

“What can you use any c ’lection for?” sar- 
castically retorted Peace, exasperated at the little 
sister’s stupidity. “What does Henderson 
Meadows use his c ’lection of stamps for? Just to 
brag about and see how many more kinds he can 
get than the other boys.” 

‘ ‘ But — I never heard of such a thing as a c ’lec- 
tion of buttons y* persisted Allee, privately worried 


100 


HEART OF GOLD 


for fear Peace was going crazy. “No one that I 
know has got one. ’ ^ 

‘ ‘ They will have as soon as I get mine started, ’ ^ 
the other girl stoutly maintained. “You wait and 
see. ’ ’ 

Allee shook her head doubtfully and slowly 
reached out her hand for her gorgeous sunset 
which strongly resembled a rainbow in con- 
vulsions. 

“You donT seem to like the plan,^^ suggested 
Peace, more than ever determined to make the 
venture, just to prove to this skeptical creature 
that she knew what she was talking about. 

“I — donT think — it will work,’’ replied truth- 
ful Allee. 

^ ‘Well, I ’ll show you. Miss Edith said when she 
was a girl it was a fad one winter to see who could 
get the biggest and prettiest string of buttons, and 
when I was telling Grandma she laughed and said 
they had the same thing a-going when she was a 
girl. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ But I don ’t see any sense to it, ’ ’ protested the 
younger sister, still unconvinced. 

“I never saw a c ’lection yet that had any sense 
to it, when it comes to that,” Peace reluctantly 
admitted. “What sense is there in saving up a lot 
of dead bugs like Cherry ’s been doing all summer, 
or a bunch of horrid, nasty, dirty old pipes, like 
Len Abbott was so proud of ; or even all those queer^ 
iosities that Judge Abbott kept in his library and 
said was worth so much money f I ain’t a-going 
to do it for the sense there is in it, but it’ll be awful 


HEART OF GOLD 


101 


lonesome for me when you girls go back to school 
this fall, ’specially as the doctor says I mustn’t 
have a teacher of my own yet, and I can’t do any 
real studying all by myself.” Privately, Peace 
was much pleased with this verdict, but she 
thought it unnecessary to say so. ^‘That’s why 
I thought it would be a good plan to get something 
like this started which would help fill up the time 
while you and Cherry were shut up in school, and 
Grandma was too busy to pay attention to me.” 

Allee’s antagonism and skepticism vanished as 
if by magic. She had opposed this beautiful plan 
which would mean so much to her crippled sister! 
In deepest contrition she enthusiastically pro- 
posed, “Let’s write the letter now and send it off 
so ’s your answers will begin coming in as soon as 
they can. I guess I didn’t ’xactly see what you 
meant at first. I think it’ll be a nice plan.” 

“All right,” Peace replied, quick to take ad- 
vantage of favorable circumstances. “You get the 
paper and ink. I’ve used mine all up out here. 
And say, s ’posing we keep this endless chain plan 
a secret among our two selves. You can have half 
the buttons that come in; but if Cherry should 
know, she would prob’ly want a share, too.” 

“Maybe ’twould be better,” Allee agreed, as 
she ran away to the house for writing materials. 

Then began the task of composing a letter which 
should cover their wants; but so many obstacles 
presented themselves to the inexperienced writers, 
that the afternoon had waned before a satisfactory 
epistle had resulted. 


102 


HEAKT OF GOLD 


‘‘There,’’ sighed Peace at length, “I guess that 
will do. It is short enough so’s it won’t take any- 
one long to make five copies, and it’s long enough 
so’s no one can be mistaken about what we mean. 
I wish I knew whether Hope kept the one she got. 
Maybe we could have gone by that and made a 
better letter of ours. This one in the magazine 
didn’t help very much ’cause it talks about the 
Ladies’ Aid, and we couldn’t use that, for every- 
body would know a Ladies ’ Aid would want some- 
thing besides buttons in their work. Do you think 
ours will do ? ” 

“Yes, it’s perfectly elegant,” the younger child 
replied, lovingly fingering the inky page of tipsy 
letters which she had just finished. “Now who 
are you going to send them to ? ” 

“I’ve been thinking of that all the while we 
were writing, and I’ve already got a list of more’n 
five. ’ ’ 

“Who?” 

“Well, there’s Lorene Meadows for a starter. 
She lives in Chicago and is acquainted with slews 
of kids which we don’t know. Then there’s Mrs. 
Grinnell in Parker, and Hec Abbott and Tessie and 
Effie and Jessie and Miss Dunbar and Annette 
Fisher and Mrs. Bainbridge and Mrs. Hartman 
and oh — all the Parker folks. ’ ’ 

“Then s ’posing we write more’n five to begin 
with. ’ ’ 

“I hadn’t thought of that. There’s no reason 
why we shouldn’t. Let’s make it ten, — that’s all 
the stamps I’ve got.” 


HEART OF GOLD 


103 


‘^All right.’’ 

Both girls set to work laboriously scribbling the 
ten copies of their chain letter, then sealed and 
addressed them, and Allee dropped them into the 
mail box on the corner just as the dinner bell 
pealed out its summons to the dining-room. 

School began the next Monday. The following 
day the first link in the endless chain was received 
from Lorene, who enclosed twelve handsome but- 
tons and asked full particulars about the button 
collection, as she desired to start one for herself, 
and could Peace send her twelve buttons in ex- 
change for hers? This was an unforeseen develop- 
ment, but Peace was so delighted with this first 
dozen that she set Allee to hunting up stray but- 
tons about the house with which to satisfy the 
demands of any other youthful collectors. On 
Wednesday two more answers were received, one 
from Mrs. Grinnell, containing forty of the oddest 
looking buttons the girls had ever seen; and one 
from a stranger in Chicago, probably a friend of 
Lorene ’s, for she, too, asked for buttons in 
return. 

Peace sighed, divided the contents of the two 
packages with an impartial hand, and remarked, 
^‘It’s lucky Mrs. Grinnell don’t want forty in ex- 
change. We had only thirty-six to begin with, 
and Lorene ’s twelve and this girl’s eight leaves 
us only sixteen, s ’posing we get many more 
answers asking for some.” 

Fortunately for her peace of mind, however, 
only one other letter made such a request, but a 


104 


HEART OF GOLD 


new dilemma arose. Packages began to arrive 
with insufficient postage, and the crippled girPs 
pocket money vanished with alarming rapidity. 
The letter carrier always delivered the daily 
budget of mail to the little maid under the trees 
when the weather permitted of her being at her 
post, and it chanced that for a fortnight after the 
answers to her endless chain began pouring in, 
she received her own mail, so no one but Allee 
knew her secret, and there was no one but Allee 
to help her out with her heavy postage bills. 

‘‘I never s ’posed anyone would send out pack- 
ages without enough stamps on ’em,” she com- 
plained to her loyal supporter one night, after an 
unusually heavy mail and a correspondingly heavy 
drain on her pocketbook. ‘‘And the trouble is, 
the letters that have the most money to pay on 
them hold the ugliest buttons. I spent twelve 
cents for stamps today. That’s the worst yet. 
Yesterday it was ten, and seven the day before. 
There won’t be much of my monthly dollar left if 
it keeps on this way. The postman got sassy this 
morning and asked me if I’d started a — a corres- 
pondence school, or if I was having a birthday 
shower every day. I’m tired of the sight of 
buttons!” 

“Already?” cried Allee. “Why, I think they 
are fine. If your dollar is all spent before the 
month is up, you can use mine. I ought to pay 
half the stampage anyway, as long as I get half the 
buttons. All the girls at school are wild to know 
where we get so many, but I won’t tell. There’s 


HEART OP GOLD 


105 


eight hundred on your string and seven hundred 
and fifty on mine.’^ 

‘‘But I divided ’em even — ” 

‘ ‘ I know you did, but you see, I traded some, and 
Dolly Thomas cried ’cause she had only twenty 
buttons on her string, so I gave her a few of 
mine. ’ ’ 

“Well, I wish we had some way to make the 
chain end,” sighed Peace disconsolately. “I’ve 
got as big a c ’lection as I want now and still they 
keep a-coming. That’s just the way those silk 
scraps did to the Ladies’ Aid in the story. 0, 
dear, don’t I get into the worst messes! I wouldn’t 
mind if they’d pay their own stamps, but I want 
my money for Christmas, and if this keeps up I’ll 
have to break into my bank. I thought it would 
be such fun to get mail every day, but the very 
sight of the postman now makes me sick.” 

“We might tell Grandpa. He’d know what to 
do,” suggested Allee, seeing that Peace was really 
heartily tired of this deluge of buttons. 

‘ ‘ I — I hate to do that. He ’d think we were little 
sillies and I guess we are. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ ’Twas your plan, ’ ’ Allee briefly informed her, 
for she did not care to be called a “silly” by 
anyone. 

“Of course it was,” Peace hastily acknowl- 
edged. “And I’m tired of it. Maybe — don’t you 
think Miss Edith could tell us what to do?” 

“I b’lieve she could. Ask her tomorrow. 
She’ll be sure to pass, even if she doesn’t have 
time to stop awhile. 0, see who’s coming!” 


106 


HEART OF GOLD 


‘‘Elspeth!^^ cried Peace, almost bouncing out 
of her chair in her eagerness to greet the dear 
friend whose face she had not seen for many 
weeks. 

^^My little girlies!^’ The woman’s sweet face 
bent over the eager one among the pillows and 
lingered there. It was the first time she had seen 
the crippled child since the doctors had pro- 
nounced her case hopeless, and she had feared that 
her presence might recall to Peace’s mind the 
great misfortune, and bring on a deluge of tears. 
But Peace was thinking of other things than 
wheel-chairs. This was the first time she had seen 
her Elspeth since the Angel Baby had slipped 
away to its Maker, and she glanced appre- 
hensively into the tender blue eyes above her, ex- 
pecting to find them dim with tears of grief for 
the little one she had lost. Instead, they were 
smiling serenely. She had locked her sorrow deep 
down in her heart, and only God and her good St. 
John knew what a heavy ache throbbed in her 
breast. 

So the brown eyes smiled bravely back, and after 
a moment the eager voice asked reproachfully, 
‘ ‘ Didn ’t you bring the b — the children f I haven ’t 
seen Baby Elspeth yet, and she is — ” 

‘ ‘ Two months old tomorrow, ’ ’ proudly answered 
the mother. ‘‘Yes, we brought her. We call her 
Bessie to avoid confusion of names. St. John has 
her now, but he happened to meet our postman on 
the street back there and stopped to tell him about 


HEART OF GOLD 


107 


some mail that he doesn’t want delivered any 
longer. ’ ’ 

“What kind of mail?” Peace breathlessly de- 
manded, suddenly remembering her endless chain 
of letters. 

“0, some cheap magazines that keep coming. 
He wrote the publishers two or three times to 
discontinue them, but it didn’t do any good, so 
now he is telling the postman not to bring them 
any more.” 

“Is that all you have to do ? ” The brown eyes 
were glowing with eagerness. 

“Yes. Refuse to accept them when the post- 
man brings them and they will soon stop coming. ’ ’ 

“Will it work with packages?” 

“With anything, I guess.” 

“What happens to the things you refuse?” 

“0, some of them are returned to the sender, 
some go to the dead-letter office, and others are 
just destroyed, I guess.” 

“Oh!” Peace had received all the information 
she needed, and as St. John now appeared at the 
gate with Glen in tow and Baby Bessie in his arms, 
she turned her attention to her guests, who, as a 
special surprise for the invalid, had been invited 
to stay for dinner. 

The next day, however, when the postman made 
his appearance with his arms bulging with pack- 
ages, and a grin of amusement stretching his 
mouth from ear to ear, he was astounded to hear 
the little lady in the wheel-chair say crisply, 
“Take ’em all back. I won’t receive another 


108 


HEART OP GOLD 


one you bring me. I s^pose there is postage to 
pay on most of ’em, too, ain’t there!” 

‘‘Fifteen cents,” he acknowledged. 

“Well, this is the time you don’t get your fifteen 
cents,” she announced calmly but with decision. 

“But I can’t deliver these packages until that 
is paid.” 

“Goody! I’m tired of the sight of them. The 
very looks of you coming up the walk gives me a 
pain. Don’t bring me another single package. 
Take them back to the — the letter undertaker — ” 

“The what!” His eyes were twinkling, and he 
had hard work to keep his twitching lips from 
breaking into an audible chuckle. 

“The place you send mail when it ain’t wanted 
by the person it’s supposed to go to. I’ve had 
all I care to do with chain letters. I really didn ’t 
think they were endless or I never would have 
started mine. We’ve got buttons enough to start 
a department store already.” 

The light of understanding broke over the post- 
man ’s rugged features. “So it was a chain letter, 
was it!” 

“Yes.” 

“And you don’t want any more packages!” 

“I won’t accept any more.” She bobbed her 
head emphatically and set all the short curls to 
dancing. 

“All right. Miss Peace. I’ll see that you aren’t 
bothered with any more packages. ’ ’ 

Peace heaved a great sigh of relief, and turned 
energetically back to her basket weaving, which 


HEART OF GOLD 


109 


had been sadly neglected of late. The parcels 
actually did cease coming, and the two con- 
spirators hugged themselves with delight that it 
had not been necessary to tell their secret so no 
one knew what sillies they were. By common con- 
sent they barred chain letters as a topic of conver- 
sation, and had almost forgotten the hateful pack- 
ages when one morning Peace received a letter 
from Miss Truman, still a teacher in the Parker 
School, saying that she had just mailed a large 
box addressed to the little invalid, and hoped that 
Peace would enjoy its contents. The girl was wild 
with anticipation, but the parcel did not put in 
appearance that afternoon, nor the next day, nor 
the next. 

‘ ‘ I am afraid it has gone astray, ^ ^ said Grandpa 
Campbell when the third morning passed without 
it coming. 

‘‘And wonT I ever get it?’^ asked Peace dis- 
consolately. 

‘ ‘ Such things sometimes happen, though Parker 
is such a short distance from here that it seems 
almost impossible for it to have been lost. I will 
call at the Post Office and inquire. Perhaps for 
some reason it is stalled there.’’ 

That afternoon he appeared with the coveted 
parcel in his hand and a mystified look in his 
eyes. 

“You got it?” shrieked Peace in ecstasy. 

“Yes, I got it, but if the Postmaster had not 
been a very good friend of mine, you would never 
have seen it.” 


110 


HEART OP GOLD 


‘‘Why notr^ Peace was genuinely amazed. 
“What right had the Postmaster to my package? 
Did he want to keep it ? ^ ’ 

“He tells me that you issued orders two weeks 
or more ago not to deliver any more packages to 
your address.’’ 

“He — oh, that was buttons! I didn’t mean this 
kind of packages. ’ ’ 

“Buttons!” the President looked even more 
puzzled. 

“O, dear,” sighed Peace unhappily. “Now I’ve 
got to tell what a silly-pate I’ve been.” So she 
poured out the tale of the endless chain to the as- 
tonished man, ending with the characteristic re- 
mark, “And I told the letter-carrier to send all 
the rest of the button packages to the letter grave- 
yard at Washington, but I s ’posed of course he’d 
bring me packages like this.” 

“He has no way of distinguishing between 
them, my dear,” the President gravely informed 
her, trying hard to keep his face straight. “You 
ordered all parcels addressed to you stopped. You 
refused to accept them, and there will be no more 
delivered to you.” 

^^Neverf^ gasped Peace. 

“Well, — not for months and months and 
months. I don ’t know exactly how we can get the 
matter fixed up now. ’ ’ 

“And will they keep all my Christmas packages, 
too?” 

“If they come addressed to you.” 

“Where’s my pencil and postcards?” She 


HEART OF GOLD 


111 


began a wild, scrambling search through the 
drawers of the table which always stood beside 
her chair. 

“What do you want of themT^ the man in- 
quired with considerable curiosity. 

“Why, IVe got to write everyone I know and 
tell ’em if they want to send me anything for 
Christmas or my birthday, or any other time, to 
address it on the outside to Allee,” she retorted, 
scribbling away energetically. 



CHAPTER Vm 


ALLEE^S ALBUM 

‘‘You are late, Allee/^ Peace had watched the 
little figure ever since it had turned the corner a 
block further down the street, and noted with in- 
creasing anxiety that the usually swift feet to- 
night were lagging and slow. Indeed, so ab- 
stracted was the belated scholar that she almost 
forgot to turn in at her own gate, and in Peace’s 
mind this could mean only one thing, — Allee had 
fallen below grade in her arithmetic that after- 
noon and had been kept after school to make it up. 
As a further indication that this was the case, she 
was intently studying the front page of a scratch- 
tablet, and when Peace called to her, she hastily 
hid the paper under her apron, while her rosy 
cheeks grew rosier still, and a look of guilty alarm 
flew into her blue eyes. 

‘ ‘ Am IT’ She tried to speak naturally, but sus- 
picious Peace detected the strained note in her 
voice, and demanded, “Were you kept after 
school ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, — no, — not really school.” 

“What do you mean by that? Cherry’s been 
home for more’n half an hour.” 

“That long?” Allee ’s amazement was too 
genuine to doubt. 


113 


114 


HEART OF GOLD 


‘‘Yes, and you said you^d come home the minute 
school was out so^s we could finish that puzzle 
and send it off. ’ ’ 

“I didn’t mean to stay so long. It seemed only 
a minute, Peace, truly.” Allee was deeply 
penitent. 

“Where have you been? To see Miss Edith?” 

“No— o— ” 

“And what’s that you are hiding under your 
apron? Allee Greenfield, you’ve got a secret from 
me ! ’ ’ cried Peace, much aggrieved. 

Poor Allee ’s face flushed crimson, the frank eyes 
wavered and fell, and a meek voice stammered, 
“I — I — ’tisn’t really a secret, Peace.” 

“What is it then?” 

“I was afraid you would laugh at me — ” 

“Why? What is there to laugh at?” 

‘ ‘ My — my rhymes. ’ ’ 

“Rhymes?” 

“Yes. You know Hope has to write ’em in High 
School, and even Cherry’s teacher took a notion to 
make her scholars try thinking up poetry. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Has your teacher ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ 0, no, but at recess we play school and one of 
our games is making up rhymes. The leader says 
anything she wants to, and we have to answer so 
it will make a jingle. It’s like spelling down. If 
we miss we have to go to the foot of the class.” 

“Mercy me! the whole house will be talking 
poetry next,” ejaculated Peace. “Gail’s just 
written one that the — the — what is the name of 
that paper? — has printed with her name at the 


HEART OF GOLD 


115 


bottom of it, and Cherry came home tonight with 
her head so big that she can hardly lug it, ’cause 
her verses were the best in her room. But I didn’t 
think it would hit you. Why, there’s getting to 
be a reg’lar emetic of poetry ’round here.” 

Allee looked crestfallen. ‘‘It’s fun when you 
know how, ’ ’ she ventured, apologetically. 
“Gussie showed me, and helps me get the feet 
straight. ’ ’ 

“Feet! Gussie! Is she at it, too?” 

“Gussie writes perfectly elegant rhymes,” 
Allee defended. “You haven’t forgotten those 
dishes she cooked for you and rhymed over, have 
you?” 

“I guess not! They were so funny. I pasted 
’em into my ‘Glimmers of Gladness.’ ” 

“And I stuck mine into my album,” confessed 
Allee. 

“Your album? What album?” 

“A little book Gussie gave me to write my 
jingles in. The name on the cover is ‘Album,’ so 
that’s what I call it.” 

“Would — would you let me see it?” 

Allee hesitated. “You won’t laugh?” 

“Not a single snicker.” 

“Well, then, — I don’t mind.” 

She darted away to the house, returning almost 
immediately with a small, thick note-book in her 
hand, partly filled with round, even writing, which 
Peace instantly recognized as Gussie ’s. “That 
ain’t — ” she began, but Allee forestalled her. 

“Gussie copies ’em all for me, ’cause my letters 


116 


HEART OP GOLD 


are so dreadfully big the pages won’t hold all I 
want to write,” she explained. 

‘‘Why don’t you get a bigger book and write 
your own poems in it? The pages are too small 
in this. I’ll tell you, — Grandma gave me a big, 
fat book a long time ago to keep a dairy in.” — 
Peace never could remember the proper place for 
the words ‘dairy’ and ‘diary.’ — “But I wrote only 
one day. It wasn’t at all int ’resting to scribble all 
by myself, but if you’ll use my book we’ll both 
write. How’d you like that?” 

Allee’s eyes were shining happily. “I think it 
would be fine. I — I really wanted your book, 
’cause it is so nice and wide, but I thought likely 
you would find some use for it yourself some 
day. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘Well, I have. We ’ll use it for a scrap album. ’ ’ 

“A scrap album?” 

“Yes. I mean, we can each of us write in it 
whenever we feel poetry, but we needn ’t have to do 
it at any time.” 

“And I can paste my ’lustrations in it between 
leaves, can’t I?” 

“What kind of ’lustrations?” 

“Why, like Hope’s note-book. She has to draw 
pictures of plants and flowers in her botany, and 
just for fun she makes skitches to picture out the 
stories they study in some of her other classes.” 

“But her skitches are nice,” Peace remarked 
skeptically. “Why, Grandpa thinks some day she 
will make a good ’lustrator for magazines and 
books.” 


HEART OF GOLD 


117 


‘‘My pictures are nice, too,’’ Allee contended. 
“Here is a sunset I painted a long time ago — ” 

“It looks like a prairie fire,” murmured the 
older sister, gravely eyeing the highly-colored 
sheet upside down. 

‘ ‘ It just matches a lullaby I made up yesterday, ’ ’ 
continued Allee, unmindful of Peace’s criticism. 
Rapidly her fingers turned the pages until she had 
found the lines she wanted, and with a heart filled 
with pride, she passed the book to her companion, 
who read, 

‘ ‘ The sun is sinking in the west, 

’Tis time my baby dear should rest, — 
Sleep, baby, sleep.” 

“You haven’t got any baby,” the reader 
interrupted. 

“It don’t need babies to write lullabies,” Allee 
scornfully retorted. “A real poet can write about 
anything^ 

“Well, anyway, I like this one better. ’ ’ Peace ’s 
eyes had travelled rapidly through the lines, and 
lingered over some stanzas on the opposite page: 

“I wonder why the fairies hide? 

I’m sure I’d like to see them dance. 

But though my very best I’ve tried, 

I never yet have had a chance. 

I wonder why, don’t you? 


118 


HEART OF GOLD 


I wonder why the birdies fly, 

While I alone can cry and talk; 

But though I often try and try, 

I cannot do a thing but walk. 

I wonder why, don’t you?” 

‘‘Yes, Gussie liked that, too,” said Allee, much 
pleased. 

“Did you write it all yourself?” Peace was 
incredulous. 

“Well, Gussie showed me how to fix it up so it 
didn’t limp, hut it’s almost like I wrote it.” 

“I don’t see how you can think of the things to 
say. ’ ’ 

“They think themselves, I guess,” replied Allee 
after a moment ’s study. ‘ ‘ Teacher last year used 
to read us stories and make us tell them ourselves, 
just as pretty as we could ; and you and I ’magine 
so many things about the moon lady and the 
mountain elves and water sprites. It’s easy to 
tell them like stories, so I just tried writing them 
out. That ain’t so easy, ’cause I can’t always 
spell the words, but it’s fun now that I’m used to 
it. Then Gussie showed me how rhymes were 
made into real poetry, so I tried that, too. It’s 
just fitting words into a tune like you used to do, 
only you don’t need a tune either. The poems 
in our Readers are what I go by. ’ ’ 

Peace was very much interested. In her 
“Glimmers of Gladness” she had essayed a poem 
or two, as she was pleased to call them; but Allee ’s 
were far superior to any of her attempts, and 


HEART OF GOLD 


119 


Allee was two years younger. Bring me all the 
old Readers in the library/’ she abruptly com- 
manded, ^‘and while you are copying your poems 
in my book, I’ll write a few of my own.” 

Allee ran to do her bidding, and soon the two 
embryo poets were so busy with pen and pencil 
that they were amazed when Jud appeared to 
carry the invalid into the house. 

‘‘It’s surely not dinner time yet!” Allee pro- 
tested. “Why, I’ve got only one poem and half 
of a story copied.” 

“That’s better’ll me,” Peace dolefully sighed, 
closing the First Reader with reluctant hands and 
laying it aside. “I haven’t done a line yet. I 
haven’t even found a poem to pattern after, though 
I guess I’ll take ‘Long Time Ago’ for my first 
one. That’s easy, and when I get onto the hang 
of it. I’ll try something harder. If it’s dinner 
time already the days must be getting lots shorter 
again. ’ ’ 

“You are right, they are,” Jud agreed. “Soon 
it will be too cold out here for you — ” 

“I shan’t mind,” Peace interrupted. “I’m 
going to write a good deal this winter. Gussie’ll 
teach me to be a poet, and I always could write 
better inside the house. There’s too much to look 
at out-of-doors.” 

Jud heaved a gusty sigh. “You all think a heap 
of Gussie, don’t you?” he asked with a jealous 
pang, for he found it almost impossible to get a 
quiet word with that busy and important member 
of the household, and now that winter was coming 


120 


HEART OF GOLD 


on, it would be harder than ever, for even the little 
after-dinner chats in the garden would have to be 
discontinued. 

^ ^ I sh ’d say we do ! ^ ’ both girls chorused. ‘ ‘ She 
is worth thinking a lot of — 

^‘That’s where you are right again, the man 
agreed heartily. 

^^She can do any thing , said Peace, who was 
never tired of singing Gussie’s praises. 

‘ ‘ Even to making poets, ’ ’ he teased. 

‘‘Yes, sir, even to making poets, and some day 
you will see for yourself. ’ ’ 

“I hope I may,^^ he sighed again, and the little 
group slowly trundled up the walk into the 
house. 

Jud’s prophecy of cold weather came true 
sooner than he had expected, and as if to make up 
for the long, lovely autumn of the year before, 
wintry^ winds descended early upon Martindale. 
Heavy frosts wrought havoc in the gardens, the 
yellow and crimson leaves fell in showers, Sep- 
tember died in a blaze of glory, and October 
found the trees naked and vines shivering in the 
keen, sharp air. It was too cold to spend the 
hours out-of-doors any longer, and the Campbells 
dreaded the long days of confinement that stretched 
out in such an appalling array before the crippled 
child. So they were amazed and agreeably sur- 
prised to hear no word of lament from the small 
maid herself, who was suddenly seized with such a 
studious fit that she found hardly time to eat her 
meals. 


HEART OF GOLD 


121 


learning to be a poet,’^ sbe told them by 
way of explanation. ‘‘Gussie^s teaching me, and, 
some day maybe you can read our poems, — ^Allee’s 
and mine. ’ ’ 

‘‘God bless Gussie,’’ they smiled tenderly, and 
went their way content, leaving the young student 
to toil with inky fingers over pages of impossible 
rhymes, for they knew that when this new play 
should have lost its attraction, they must have 
something else to hold the patient ^s interest. 

Perhaps it was Gussie’s teaching, perhaps 
Allee ’s unflagging enthusiasm which kept restless 
Peace pouring over the ancient Readers unearthed 
from obscure corners of the President's great 
library; but however that may be, more ink was 
used in the big house during those early Fall days 
than had ever been used before, and the fat note- 
book was filled at an alarming rate with contribu- 
tions from its two owners, and an occasional skit, 
by way of encouragement, from Gussie, the cook. 

As neither Peace nor Allee ever offered to share 
their secrets with their elders, the sisters soon lost 
interest in the new amusement; but one night when 
both scribes were fast asleep in their beds, Hope 
chanced to find the precious volume on the couch 
by the fireplace where Allee had carelessly 
dropped it when the dinner hour had been an- 
nounced. Picking it up, she opened it idly, before 
she recognized what book she had in her hand. 
Then, just as she was about to lay it aside, one of 
Allee ’s contributions caught her eye, and with 
amazement she read the little story, retouched and 


122 


HEART OF GOLD 


polished up by Gussie, but breathing the small 
sister’s winsomeness in every word. 

^‘Why, the little mouse!” she exclaimd in her 
astonishment. ‘‘If that isn’t just like her!” 

“Where’s the mouse?” demanded Cherry, curl- 
ing her feet up under her and searching wildly 
about the floor with eyes full of fear and loathing. 

“In bed,” promptly answered Hope. “I’ve got 
her stories here in my hand. Grandma, do you 
know what the youngsters have been doing all 
this while?” 

Mrs. Campbell glanced at the book on Hope’s 
knee, and smilingly answered, “Learning to be 
poets under Gussie ’s instruction.” 

‘ ‘ But Allee really does write splendidly, ’ ’ Hope 
insisted very seriously. ‘H can hardly believe 
she wrote all this; yet it sounds just like her. She 
always did have such a beautiful way of saying 
things. ’ ’ Then she burst out laughing. 

“What is it?” demanded the sisters, scenting 
something unusual, and laying aside their lessons 
to listen. 

‘ ‘ A poem by Peace, ’ ’ gasped Hope. “ 0, it ’s too 
funny!” Wiping her eyes, she dramatically read: 

“ ‘In the yard the little chicklets 
Ran to and fro. 

Digging up the worms and buglets 
Squirming down below. 


HEART OF GOLD 


123 


Came a hawk and grabbed a chicklet, 

Right by the toe, 

And the little chicklet hollered, 

‘0, let me go.’ 

But the hawklet hugged him tighter. 
Wouldn’t turn him loose. 

Cause he thought he’d make good dinner 
When there was no goose. 

So the hawklet went a-flying 
Up in the sky. 

With the chicklet still a-crying, 

^‘I don’t want to die.’ ” 

By the time she had finished reading the queer 
stanzas, five heads were clustered about hers, for 
even the President cast aside his paper to listen; 
and five pair of eager eyes were striving to read 
the uneven scrawls with which the pages were 
filled. 

‘‘Well, I declare!” ejaculated the learned 
Doctor of Laws, rubbing his spectacles vigorously, 
and bending over the ink-blotted book again. “I 
had no idea that Allee was far enough advanced 
in school to write compositions and — and — 
rhymes. ’ ’ 

“She is nearly up with Peace,” said Gail 
proudly. “I predict that she will be a poet yet.” 

“Wouldn’t be at all surprised,” replied the 
doctor. “Her grandfather might have shone in 


124 


HEART OF GOLD 


literature if he had chosen that field instead of the 
ministry. ’ ’ 

‘‘I like Peace’s contributions almost the best,” 
murmured the grandmother apologetically, brush- 
ing a tear from her cheek as she finished reading 
some incomplete lines penned by the brown-eyed 
maid : — 


‘^Shut up here with no trees nor plants, 

I can’t tear my close on a barb wire fence. 

With my feet on a pillow where I can’t use ’em 
There’s nothing on earth can ever bruise ’em. 
But oh, how I hate to lie here all day, 

When I want to be out in the garden at play. 

I want to get up and run and shout, 

I want to see what’s happening about. 

There’ll be no more climbing up roofs so high, 
I must live in a wheel-chair until I die. ’ ’ 

Hope’s eyes, too, had seen the pathetic lines, 
and closing the book, she softly said, ‘‘Let’s all 
write something in it as a surprise, — something 
of our own, I mean. ’ ’ 

“And you make little margin pictures like Mrs. 
Strong did in Peace’s Brownie Book,” suggested 
Cherry. 

“You mean her ‘Glimmers of Gladness,’ ” Faith 
corrected, smiling a little in remembrance of the 
brown and gold volume which had helped while 
away the rainy days at the parsonage more than 
a year before. 


HEART OF GOLD 


125 


^‘And paint the name in fancy letters on the 
front cover,” Gail added. 

‘‘What shall you call it I” asked the grand- 
mother, already searching for pen and paper that 
she might make a first draft of some lines run- 
ning through her mind. 

“The same title they have given it,” Gail an- 
swered. “ ‘Allee’s Album.’ ” 

“And God bless ‘Allee’s Album,’ ” reverently 
whispered the deeply-touched President, blowing 
his nose like a trumpet to relieve his feelings. 




s 


4 


CHAPTER IX 


PEACE INTERVIEWS THE BISHOP 

sighed the President, laying down the 
evening paper and leaning wearily back among 
the cushions of his great Morris chair, ‘‘it really 
looks as if South Avenue Church is to have Dr. 
Henry Shumway for its pastor this year. ’ ’ 

Mrs. Campbell glanced up hastily from her sew- 
ing with consternation in her eyes and asked, 
“Has the bishop really confirmed the report?’^ 
“No, but he won’t deny it, either. According 
to an article in this paper, our beloved Dr. Glaves 
is to be transferred to the Iowa Conference, and 
Dr. Shumway takes his place. ’ ’ 

“I sh’d think you’d be glad enough to see Dr. 
Glaves go,” remarked an abstracted voice from 
the corner of the room where Peace and Allee 
were absorbed in the task of sorting and stringing 
bright-colored beads. “He reminds me of tomb- 
stones and seminaries f — ^not only his name, but the 
pomperous way he has of crawling up the aisle. 
He walks like a stone yimage!* 

“Porpoise, you mean,” gently suggested Allee. 
“Pompous,” corrected the President, smiling a 
little at their blunders. “I can’t say I am exactly 
sorry to see the Reverend Philander N. Glaves 
transferred,” — his tone was mildly sarcastic, — 

127 


128 


HEART OF GOLD 


‘‘for he was a misfit in South Avenue Church. 
We didn^t want him in the first place, but we 
tried to be decent to him during his year’s sojourn 
with us. However, that’s neither here nor there. 
When three times in succession we are given a man 
we don’t want, I think it is time to kick. We 
have quietly accepted the other two men when we 
wanted Dr. Atkinson, but now — ” 

“You oughtn’t to kick the preacher,” mused 
Peace, studying the effect of some green and 
purple beads together. “He has to go where he 
is sent, doesn’t he?” 

“Ye — s,” reluctantly conceded the President. 
“Then ’tisn’t his fault if he gets stuck in a 
good-for-nothing church which he doesn ’t want — ’ ’ 
“South Avenue Church is considered one of the 
choicest pastorates our Conference affords,” 
hastily interrupted Dr. Campbell, while his wife 
quickly buried her face in her sewing again, to 
hide the smile dancing in her eyes. 

“Is it?” Peace looked genuinely surprised. 
“It’s always scrapping. Fd hate to be its 
preacher. Papa had a nawful time in his last 
church ’cause they picked on him to scrap about. 
He got sent where he didn’t want to go, and in the 
end he had to quit, — ^just plumb worn out by being 
jumped on. He was a good man, too. ’ ’ 

The President looked uncomfortable. “But 
Peace,” he argued, “you are too young to under- 
stand such matters. I haven’t the slightest doubt 
that Dr. Shumway is a good man and an excellent 
preacher. In fact, he comes most highly recom- 


HEART OF GOLD 


129 


mended. We aren’t objecting to him personally. 
It’s the principle of the thing — ” 

‘‘Well, if the Pendennis Church people had 
kicked the principle instead of Papa, maybe he’d 
be a live preacher yet and not an angel.” 

Dr. Campbell lapsed into silence. What was the 
use of arguing with a child? He was tired from 
a strenuous day’s work at the University and dis- 
gusted with the bishop’s pig-headed perversity. It 
was early in the evening yet, but perhaps bed was 
the best place for him in his state of mind; so ex- 
cusing himself and bidding the trio good-night, he 
stalked off upstairs. 

Peace had forgotten all about the bishop and 
Dr. Shumway when she awoke the next morning, 
and might have paid no more attention to the 
South Avenue Church discussions, had she not 
chanced to overhear a conversation not intended 
for her ears. It was after luncheon. Cherry and 
Allee had returned to school, the older sisters 
were not expected for hours yet, and Peace was 
just composing herself for a nap, having nothing 
else to fill in the long afternoon until school should 
close for the day, when the telephone bell rang, 
and Mrs. Campbell herself answered it. 

Thinking it might be a message from her St. 
Elspeth or Aunt Pen, who never were too busy to 
remember the little prisoner at the other end of 
the city. Peace popped her head up to listen, and 
heard her grandmother say slowly and with evi- 
dent regret, “I’m so sorry, Mrs. York, but I don’t 
see how I can. — 0, yes, indeed, I had planned on 


130 


. HEART OP GOLD 


it, but circumstances, you know. — She’s doing 
nicely, but I can’t very well leave her alone all 
the afternoon. — No, but the two smaller girls are 
in school until half-past three, Gail and Faith have 
recitations up through the sixth hour at the Uni- 
versity, and Hope went with her class to view that 
collection of antiquities at the Public Library. — 
Well, you see, this is Gussie’s afternoon out, and 
— No, never with Marie. — I had counted upon 
Hope’s being here to keep her company. — I am 
sorry to disappoint you, but I assure you I am 
very much more disappointed on my own 
account — ” 

* ^ Grandma ! ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Good-bye. I suppose I shall see you Sunday ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Grandma ! ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ All right. Good-bye. ’ ’ 

* ‘ Grandma ! Can ’t you hear me ? ’ ’ 

‘‘Yes, dearie, but I was at the telephone.” 

“I know it, and I wanted you to tell Mrs. York 
that you’d come.” 

“But, childie, I can’t leave you here all alone. 
You and Marie — ” 

“Fight. Yes, I know. But you might take me 
along. Couldn ’t you ! ’ ’ 

Mrs. Campbell was startled. This was the 
first time since the accident that Peace had showed 
any desire to go beyond the boundaries of the 
garden; and the woman glanced suspiciously at 
the eager face, thinking that the suggestion meant 
a sacrifice of the child ’s own wishes. But the eyes 
were shining with their old-time enthusiasm, and 


HEART OF GOLD 


131 


Mrs. Campbell said hesitatingly, ^‘It^s a Mission- 
ary Conference, dear.^^ 

‘ ‘ I always did like missionary meetings, ’ ^ Peace 
reminded her. 

“But this will be different, — ^mostly statistics, 
reports and discussions. I am afraid you would 
find it very dull. ’ ’ 

“Women can be awfully dull sometimes, Peace 
admitted cheerfully. “But you want to go, I 
haven’t anything to do, and I might just as well 
be watching the crowds there as taking a nap here 
at home. Then both of us would be amused; 
while here, you would be thinking of what you’d 
missed, and I’d be just itching for something to 
do.” 

“But supposing the proceedings don’t amuse 
you?” smOed the woman. 

“Then I’ll go to sleep like Deacon Skinner 
always did in Parker. Or I might take along 
something to read, s ’posing things get too awfully 
dry. ’ ’ 

“Would you really like to go?” Mrs. Camp- 
bell was still a little doubtful, though from her 
manner of glancing at the clock, and then down 
the street, it was evident that she herself very 
much desired to attend that afternoon’s session of 
the Conference. 

“Sure,” Peace answered promptly, and Mrs. 
Campbell allowed herself to be persuaded. So 
half an hour later the brown-eyed maid found her- 
self trundling down the familiar streets in her 
wheel-chair. 


132 


HEART OF GOLD 


It was a clear, cold day, and the crisp air 
smelled of fallen leaves and bonfires; and both 
woman and child sniffed hungrily at the delicious 
odors of Autunm. Peace was almost reluctant to 
enter the big church when they reached it, for 
the lure of the open air was great, the blue sky 
charming, and even the leafless trees and frost- 
blackened shrubs were enticing. 

Once inside the building, however, she forgot 
all else in watching the crowd of enthusiastic 
ladies trotting to and fro and mingling with the 
throng of black-f rocked ministers gathered for 
the closing sessions of the Annual Conference. 
Even when the meeting was called to order and the 
afternoon’s business begun. Peace did not lose her 
interest, though she understood very little of what 
was going on, and wondered how her grandmother 
or any other sensible soul could be interested in 
the long lists of stupid figures that were read from 
time to time. 

^ ‘ Sounds ’s if they were learning their multipli- 
cation tables,” she giggled, ^‘and when they all 
get to gabbling at once, — that’s the Chinese of it.” 

‘‘What’s the Chinese of it, if I may ask!” in- 
quired a deep voice in her ear; and thinking it was 
her beloved St. John, she whirled about to find a 
friendly-eyed stranger just sitting down in the 
pew behind her chair. 

She had forgotten her surroundings, and had 
spoken her thoughts aloud. ‘ ‘ Mercy ! ’ ’ she gasped. 
“I thought I had this corner all to myself. I 
never s’pected anyone was near enough to hear 


HEART OP GOLD 


133 


what I said. Once before I did that same thing, 
. and a minister caught me at it that time, too. Your 
voice sounds like his, — deep and bull-froggy. I 
’most called you St. John before I saw it was 
someone else. Are you a missionary!” 
no. Just a — ” 

‘‘Plain preacher!” finished Peace, as he hesi- 
tated a moment with his sentence incomplete. 

“Yes, just a plain preacher,” he laughed. 

“Well, I thought you had a missionaryish look 
about you. That ’s why I asked. I Ve been trying 
all the afternoon to sort out the gang — ” 

‘ ‘ Do what ! ” He was frankly amazed. 

“Now I s’pose IVe shocked you,” she cried 
penitently. ‘ ‘ Grandma doesn ’t like me to use such 
words, but I keep forgetting. I meant I’d been 
trying to pick out the missionaries and ministers, 
and the bishop. I ’specially wanted a look at the 
bishop, but I haven’t seen a wink of him yet.” 

“And why are you so anxious to see the bishop, 
my girl!” asked her newly found acquaintance, 
smiling in amusement. “He surely ought to be 
flattered — ” 

‘ ‘ I want to see if he looks beery. ’ ’ 

“Beery!” The broad face of her companion 
looked like an enlarged exclamation point. 

“Yes, — he’s got such a beery name. Fancy a 
man called Malthouse being a minister, and a 
bishop at that! I couldn’t help wondering if his 
face fitted his job any better than his name.” 

“Well — as to that — I’m not — prepared to say,” 
stammered the big man beside her. 


134 


HEART OF GOLD 


‘‘Don^t you know 

‘‘0, yes, quite well/^ 

“Is he good-lookingr^ 

“Well, you know folks differ in their ideas of 
what good-looking means, he hedged, seeming 
somewhat embarrassed. 

“I took that extinguished looking man over there 
in the corner for the bishop — ’’ 

“ Extinguished r ’ 

“Yes, the one with the extra long tails on his 
coat and bushy white hair; but he’s been opening 
and shutting windows all day long, and I expect 
they’d give the bishop something better than that 
to do.” 

The puzzled divine glanced curiously in the di- 
rection the child’s thin forefinger was pointing, 
and chuckled outright as he beheld the aged figure 
of the new janitor moving slowly down the aisle 
with the long window-stick in his hand. “So you 
think he looks like a bishop?” he managed to 
articulate soberly. 

“Yes, I do. He’s the best-looking man in the 
bunch. He’s so tall and straight, too, and so — so 
bishop-y in the set of his clothes. They fit him. 
But he doesn’t jabber as much as the rest. I 
s ’pose ’twould be just like the things that happen 
to me to find out that that giant bean-pole which 
keeps teetering around the room is the bishop.” 
She indicated a very tall, very slender man, 
who at that moment chanced to pass their 
retreat. 

“ No, ” her companion answered promptly, ‘ ‘ that 


HEART OF GOLD 


135 


is not the bishop. His name is Shumway, — Dr. 
Shumway — 

‘‘Dr. Shumway!’^ echoed the child. “The man 
the bishop is going to send to onr church? Well, 
I donT wonder the people mean to kick! AinT 
he the homeliest ever?^’ 

“Who told you that?^^ gravely asked the 
stranger preacher, all the smile gone from his 
kindly eyes. 

“That he^s homely? No one. I can see it 
for myself.’^ 

“I mean who told you that the people intend 
to kick?^^ 

“Oh! Grandpa was talking to Grandma last 
evening. The paper said Dr. Shumway was to 
take the place of Dr. Glaves. It’s a pity they 
can’t divide up, ain’t it? Dr. Glaves would look 
less like an elephant if he didn’t have so much 
meat on him and Dr. Shumway needs a lot more ’n 
he’s got.” 

“Who is your grandfather?” interrupted the 
man beside her, ignoring the candid criticisms 
of his entertainer. 

“Dr. Campbell, President of the State Unh 
versity,” she answered proudly. 

“Oh!” He was silent a moment; then as if 
musing aloud, he murmured, “So they mean to 
kick, do they?” 

“Well, wouldn’t you? This is the third time 
South Avenue Church has asked for one partic ’lar 
man and got a different fellow. It’s time they 
kicked, seems to me. I guess the bishop likes to 


136 


HEART OF GOLD 


lord it over the churches and have his own way- 
in things/’ 

^‘Perhaps he thinks he knows best what kind 
of a man is needed in his different charges. ’ ’ 

‘^P’r’aps he does, but he made an awful bungle 
when he sent Dr. Glaves down here, — that ’s sure. ’ ’ 

“Possibly that was a mistake,” replied her com- 
panion in a queer, strained voice. “But no one is 
sorrier than the bishop himself when he 
blunders. ’ ’ 

“Then I sh’d think he would be more careful 
about giving us another misfit. We are tired of 
’em. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Dr. Shumway is a man whom everyone loves, ’ ’ 
said the ministerial-looking gentleman warmly. 

“I’m glad of that, then; but I am sorry he is 
coming to South Avenue Church just the same. 
He doesn’t look as if he could stand being kicked 
any more’n Papa could. Has he got any 
children f ’ ’ 

“Yes, five, I believe.” 

“Any my size?” 

“I think his family is pretty well grown up, my 
girl. ’ ’ 

“That’s lucky, for if the church should happen 
to wear him out like they did Papa, why, his chil- 
dren could take care of themselves when he died 
and not have to dig like we did, and fin’ly be 
adopted or else sent to the poor farm.” 

The big man fidgeted in his pew and looked 
quite uncomfortable as the relentless voice con- 
tinued, “I sh’d hate to be a bishop and have such 


HEART OF GOLD 


137 


things blamed onto me; but if the bishop hadn’t 
insisted on sending Papa to that Pendennis Church 
when they had asked for someone else, maybe he 
might be living with his family yet, instead of 
with the angels.” 

^^Who was your Papa?” the gruff voice gently 
asked. 

Peter Greenfield.” 

^^Oh!” 

^ Did you know him ? ’ ’ 

‘‘Yes. Yes, indeed. He was one of my — I am 
the — I knew him well. He was a good preacher 
and a splendid man. The Church suffered a great 
loss in his death.” 

“His family suffered a worser one, ’cause 
Mamma got sick and then we had two angels be- 
hind the Gates, and no one here to tell us what to 
do, and Gail not eighteen.” 

‘ ‘ Tell me about it. ’ ’ 

The missionary meeting had long since dis- 
solved into several committee meetings, and the 
hum of voices in the great auditorium drowned 
the conversation in the dim recess at the rear of 
the room; but Peace had entirely forgotten her 
surroundings, and without restraint she poured 
out the simple story of her father’s sacrifices in 
her concise, forceful way, laying bare family 
secrets and relating with telling effect the pa- 
thetic struggle of the six sisters left alone to face 
the battle with the world. 

“And then we came to live with Grandpa and 
Grandma Campbell,” she finished. “They are 


138 


HEART OF GOLD 


just like truly relations to us, but they can never 
make up for our own father and mother, any more 
than we can really take the place of their own 
little girls which died. Why, has the Conference 
quit? Everybody's bustling all around the room 
now. I wonder where Grandma went? Is it time 
to go home?^’ 

^‘In a moment or two,^’ replied the man, 
thoughtfully stroking his smoothly- shaven chin. 
‘^Some of the committees are evidently still in 
session.’’ 

^‘And I never looked at Allee’s Album all the 
while I was here! I had to come, else Grandma 
couldn’t, ’cause the girls are all in school ’xcept 
Hope, and she has gone to see the iniquities at the 
Library. So I brought this along to keep myself 
awake with, ’cause I thought it would likely be a 
stupid, sleepy meeting today. They always are 
when a lot of fat old ladies get to talking 
ecstatics /^ — she meant statistics — ‘‘but I’ve had a 
very nice time listening and watching those funny 
preachers ; and I ’m glad you came along to talk to 
me — ” 

“Bishop Malthouse!” someone from the ros- 
trum shouted. 

The dignified gentleman rose hastily, stooped 
and kissed the white cheek of the child, and de- 
parted after a hurried, “Sounds as if I was 
wanted. ’ ’ 

At that moment Mrs. Campbell rustled up to 
the little recess where the wheel-chair stood, 
glanced apprehensively at the figure reclining 


HEART OF GOLD 


139 


among the cushions, and briskly asked, Tired, 
dearie?’’ 

‘^No, Grandma. IVe had a lovely time. But 
who is that minister just going up the aisle?” 

Mrs. Campbell glanced over her shoulder. 
‘‘Bishop Malthouse, dear.” 

“Bishop — !” Words failed her. 

“Yes, the man who appoints the ministers of 
this Conference.” 

“0, Grandma! And I told him some dreadful 
things about himself. WeVe been talking most 
of the afternoon.” 

Mrs. Campbell’s heart smote her. “What did 
you say to him, girlie ? ’ ’ 

Peace briefly recounted their conversation as 
she remembered it, and sighed tragically, ‘ ‘ I talk 
too much. Faith says I tell all I know to every- 
one I meet.” 

“That little tongue of yours does run away 
with itself sometimes,” replied the woman, dis- 
mayed at Peace’s revelations; but perceiving how 
distressed the child felt over her blunder, she for- 
bore to chide her; and in silence they wound their 
way honieward. 

The President was late for dinner that night, 
but when he did arrive, the whole family knew 
from his very step that he was the bearer of good 
news. 

“Grandpa’s glad,” sang Peace, as he hurried 
into the room and took his place at the table. 

“Did — have you been — ?” began Mrs. Camp- 
bell, hesitatingly. 


140 


HEART OF GOLD 


‘‘To the Official Board Meeting? he finished. 
“Yes, that is why I am so late.^^ 

“The meeting was in regard to the new 
preacher ? ^ ’ 

“Yes, and the bishop was there in person.^’ 

“Oh!’’ Seven pair of eyes regarded him ex- 
pectantly. 

“He very frankly stated his reasons for not 
wishing to send us Dr. Atkinson, and why he 
thought Dr. Shumway was the man for the place. 
Then he left us to decide which minister we would 
have. ’ ’ 

“And you chose — ?” 

‘ ‘ Dr. Shumway — unanimously. ’ ’ 

Involuntarily Mrs. Campbell glanced across the 
table toward Peace; and that young lady, busy 
buttering a hot roll, paused long enough to re- 
mark complacently, “I guess the bishop ain’t as 
lordy as he looks, after all, is he?” 


CHAPTER X 


THE NEW PASTOR OF SOUTH AVENUE CHURCH 

‘‘Marie, if that is anyone to see Grandma, show 
them in here, and tell ’em she will he back in a 
few minutes. Well, that’s what she said to do 
when she went out.” For Marie had paused un- 
certainly on her way to answer the doorbell, and 
eyed Peace skeptically. 

‘ ‘ 0, very well, ’ ’ retorted the maid crossly. ‘ ‘ But 
mind your manners and be a lady. ’ ’ 

Before Peace could think of a suitable reply to 
that studied insult, the girl had flung open the 
door and ushered in a very tall, angular person, 
who at first sight seemed all arms and legs. But 
when one caught a glimpse of his face, one 
straightway forgot all other characteristics, for 
in rugged homeliness it would have been hard to 
surpass him, and yet there was a striking kindli- 
ness of feature, a certain gentleness of eye that 
instantly drew people to him, so that instinctively 
they knew him to be their friend. Up into this 
face sulky Peace found herself staring, as the tall 
figure crossed the parlor threshold, and came to 
meet her with hand outstretched in greeting. 

‘ ‘ How do you do U ’ a rich voice rumbled. ‘ ‘ Are 
you the mistress of the house today?” 

141 


142 


HEART OP GOLD 


‘‘You^re as homely as Abraham Lincoln/’ she 
gasped, scarcely aware that she had spoken 
aloud. ^‘In fact, you look very much like his 
pictures, — as much as a gray, bald-headed, 
whiskerless man could look like a black-bearded 
one. ’ ’ 

‘‘Thanks,” he laughed genially. “That is the 
greatest compliment anyone could pay me. I only 
wish I were as noble a man.” 

“We grow to be like our highest ideas,” Peace 
answered primly, recalling a little lecture she had 
received that morning. “You are Dr. Shumway, 
ain ’t you ? Pastor of South Avenue Church ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, mademoiselle; and you are one of Dr. 
Campbell ’s granddaughters ? ’ ’ 

“By adoption. My name is Peace Greenfield, 
and my father and real grandfather were min- 
isters in their time. That’s why I am so much in- 
terested in preachers. Have you any children!” 
she asked. 

“Five,” he answered, amused at the grown-up 
air she had assumed. “How many are there of 
you?” 

“Six. Four older ’n me and just Allee younger. 
The bishop said he thought all of yours were 
grown up. Are they?” 

“We — 11, none of them are very small now. 
Pansy is the youngest, and she is nearly fourteen. ’ ’ 

“Pansy! Of all names! I s’pose she is as big 
as an elephant, ain’t she?” 

‘ ‘ She is rather large for her age, ’ ’ acknowledged 
the surprised minister, hardly knowing how to 


HEART OP GOLD 


143 


receive these candid remarks of his youthful 
hostess. 

‘^All the Pansies I ever knew were,’^ sighed 
Peace. ‘‘I don’t see why people will name their 
biggest children Pansy.” 

^‘But how is one to tell how fat a child will be 
when” it grows upP’ argued the puzzled man. 

‘‘It’s never safe to name a baby Pansy. It’s 
sure to be a whale. Besides, Pansy isn’t a pretty 
name for a person. It is all right for a flower, but 
for a real live thing — well, ministers do have 
awfully queer notions about pretty names, any- 
way. Are all your children girls?” 

“No, only four. Keturah, Caroline, Penelope 
and Pansy.” 

“Mercy! What outrageous names! It is very 
plain that you didn’t go to the Bible for your 
children, but you couldn’t have done any worse if 
you had.” 

“Why, child, what do you mean?” gasped the 
thoroughly uncomfortable pastor, mentally de- 
ciding that this was the rudest specimen of hu- 
manity that he had ever met in his life. 

“Well, you see after my sister Gail was born 
and named after Mamma, Grandpa came to stay 
with us and while he lived he took the job of nam- 
ing the rest of us, — all but Allee. He died before 
she came. But he hunted out words from the 
Bible to call us, and they are all misfits but 
Hope.” 

“Hope is a very pretty name,” murmured the 
minister, somewhat hesitatingly. 


144 


HEART OF GOLD 


‘‘Yes, and Hope is a very pretty girl, too. The 
name and the girl go together all right in that 
case. But look at Faith and Cherry — her real 
name is Charity — and me. Look at my name. 
There ain’t a thing peaceful about me. I seem 
bound to make a stir wherever I go, no matter how 
hard I try to be good. It just ain’t in me to be 
quiet and keep my mouth shut. Now, if Grandpa 
had waited till I grew up, he never would have 
called me ‘Peace.’ Still, I’m glad he didn’t call 
me ‘Catarrh.’ That’s outlandish. I thought that 
was something which ailed folks.” 

‘ ‘ Catarrh is, ’ ’ agreed Dr. Shumway, amusement 
supplanting the indignation which he had felt 
welling up within him. “My girl’s name is 
Keturah. We call her Kitty — ” 

“Yes, I s’pose so. The girls named Kitty are 
always big and homely, too.” 

“Well, our Kitty is neither big nor homely — ” 
“0, doesn’t she look like you?” 

He smiled grimly. “ No, ” he answered. ‘ ‘ She 
resembles her angel mother. ’ ’ 

“Have you got an angel in your family, too?” 
Peace’s brown eyes were softly tender, and the 
busy minister suddenly loved the talkative little 
sprite who was so very frank in her observations. 

“Yes, two. The mother of my five children, and 
my only grandson, Keturah ’s child.” 

“A baby?” 

“Yes.” His eyes sought the live embers in the 
great fireplace, and he sat apparently lost in 
thought. 


HEART OF GOLD 


145 


Peace sighed and was thoughtfully silent a 
moment; then as the pause grew oppressive to 
her, she observed, ‘‘So Keturah’s married/’ 

The minister looked up startled, then smiled in 
amusement. “Yes, and Caroline also, hut Carrie 
has no children.” 

“Who keeps house for you if your wife is an 
angel and your biggest children are married? Do 
they live with you still?” 

“0, no. Both girls have homes of their own in 
other towns. My sister Anne stays with us, and 
with the help of Penelope and Pansy manages the 
house very well.” 

“What did you do with your boy? You haven’t 
said a word about him yet. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Dickson ? 0, he doesn ’t live at home any more, 
either. He is a doctor at Danbury Hospital in 
Fairview. He is getting to be quite a remarkable 
surgeon and we are all proud of him, I can tell 
you. ’ ’ 

“How nice!” exclaimed Peace, glancing in- 
voluntarily at the slippered feet resting on the 
cushioned stool of Dr. Campbell’s great Morris 
chair. “I wish we had a good doctor in our 
family. Then p’r’aps he could make me walk 
again. ’ ’ 

“Walk again!” Amazement, consternation 
showed in the minister’s face, and his eyes also 
sought the useless little feet on their cushion. 
‘ ‘ Why, child, ’ ’ he whispered, all the pity and sym- 
pathy of his great heart throbbing in his voice, 
“are you lame?” 


146 


HEART OF GOLD 


It seemed incredible, and yet he recalled now 
that all the while he had sat there listening to her 
chatter, those gay slippers had not once moved. 

‘^Yes,’’ Peace answered simply, surprised at his 
question. ^‘Didn’t you know that before!’’ 

He shook his head. 

^H’ll have to live in chairs all my life,” she 
explained. ^^They said maybe after a time I could 
have crutches, but it’s my back that’s hurt and 
crutches won’t be much good to me, I guess. I 
clum a roof and fell — oh, months and months ago.” 

Briefly she recounted the unlucky adventure and 
the sad, weary days that had followed, while the 
preacher listened spell-bound, — shocked at the 
sorrowful tale. 

When she had finished, his quivering lips whis- 
pered tenderly, ^‘Poor little girl!” and two great 
tears stole down his rugged cheeks. 

Peace was deeply touched at this unusual dis- 
play of sympathy, and laying her thin little hand 
on his knee, she said softly, ‘ ‘ I love you. ’ ’ There 
was a pause. Then before Dr. Shumway could 
think of any appropriate words in which to voice 
his turbulent thoughts, the crippled girl abruptly 
exclaimed, ‘^Why, do you know, you’ve got eyes 
like my cat I ’ ’ 

The reverend gentleman fairly bounced from 
his chair in his astonishment. ^‘Eyes like your 
c — cat ! ” he stuttered. 

‘^Yes,” Peace calmly answered. ^^One brown 
and one blue. I’ve been watching you ever since 
you came in, trying to make out why you looked 


HEART OF GOLD 


147 


so queer, and now I know, — it’s your eyes. Does 
it feel any different having two colors instead of 
one f ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ N — o, ’ ’ he managed to reply, still staring with 
fascinated eyes at the child in the chair opposite. 

‘‘Well, I should think it would,” she began, but 
at that moment there was a brisk step on the 
wide veranda, the front door opened and Mrs. 
Campbell entered. 

Dr. Shumway rose to meet her, and Peace’s in- 
terview with the new pastor of South Avenue 
Church was at an end. 

But the face of the small cripple haunted the 
minister, her pathetic story lingered in his mind, 
and he found himself constantly thinking of the 
long, weary years of helpless waiting stretching 
out before her. 

“0, it can’t be,” he protested over and over 
again. ‘ ‘ She was never meant for a life like that ! 
Activity is written all over her. She is right when 
she says she can’t keep quiet. What wonderful 
good such energy could accomplish if trained in 
the right direction! I wonder if Dickson — I be- 
lieve I will write him. No, it would be better for 
him to see her first without having heard anything 
about the case. How can we bring it to pass?” 

Straightway he began to plan how he might 
carry out a certain scheme which was gradually 
taking shape in his brain, until at length a prac- 
ticable idea at last presented itself and he 
broached the subject to the other members of his 
household. 


148 


HEART OF GOLD 


They were seated at the dinner table one night 
when he casually observed to his two youngest 
daughters, “Girls, what do you think of a Christ- 
mas party at the parsonage this year? Can we 
manage one?’’ 

“A Christmas party!” gasped both girls in 
dismay. 

Even his sister Anne stared at him aghast. 

“Well, why not?” he inquired, when no one 
ventured an explanation of the family’s evident 
consternation. 

‘ ‘ I don ’t know how to entertain, ’ ’ wailed Pansy. 
“I’m too clumsy.” 

“We are hardly settled here,” ventured sister 
Anne deprecatingly. 

“Keturah is coming home for Christmas,” 
whispered Penelope. 

“So are Dick and Carrie,” said the preacher 
briskly. “We all will be together once again and 
I want my whole family to meet the young folks 
of my new flock. What if we aren’t in apple-pie 
order? We’ll be less so by the time the party is 
over, I’ll wager. As for Kitty, — I think we better 
plan for our Christmas party.” 

“That settles it,” whispered Pansy to the 
youngest sister, as her father began to discuss 
some household problem with his sister. ‘ ^ But I ’ll 
bet he’s got some pet scheme up his sleeve. His 
party isn’t just to introduce us, — you see.” 

Penelope was shrewd in her observations and 
knew her father like a book, but she did not guess 
his secret, nor was she particularly curious this 


HEART OF GOLD 


149 


time. She did not want a Christmas party at the 
parsonage. It meant so much work and clutter. 
Besides, it was so much nicer to have just a little 
family gathering, such as they were accustomed to 
each year. There would be Kitty and Ed, Carrie 
and Phil, and Dick. — Dickson was still unmar- 
ried. — That would make five extra in the little 
family, and five people were a plenty to plan for, 
without having a party. But then, what was the 
use of objecting? Her father had said party, and 
a party there would be. The only thing to do was 
to make the best of it and plan the most unique 
program the brains of the whole household could 
devise. So Aunt Anne, Penelope and Pansy set 
to work. 

True to his convictions. Dr. Shumway wrote 
nothing of his plans to his son, nor did he once 
mention his hopes to the distracted Campbell 
family, although he had skilfully managed that 
his son’s professional reputation should reach the 
ears of them all. To be doubly sure that his pet 
scheme should not fail, he gave Peace a personal 
invitation to attend his Christmas party, and 
made several visits to the Campbell home ap- 
parently to discuss his plans with members of that 
household, while in reality his object was to rouse 
the invalid’s curiosity and interest so she would 
be sure to join the merrymakers at the parsonage 
on that night of nights. Then Dickson could not 
fail to meet her and their acquaintance would 
come about naturally. He could not feel that Dr. 
Coates and the specialists had really found the 


150 


HEART OP GOLD 


seat of the trouble yet, but Dickson would know if 
there was any hope for the little sufferer. Dick- 
son, — stalwart, genial, gentle Dickson, — his boy, — 
his boy would know. 

So it was with great eagerness that he looked 
forward to the Christmas party, for Peace had 
solemnly promised to be there in her wheel-chair, 
and it was hard to refrain from telling the whole 
story to his boy before the time was ripe. 

But when at last the night arrived. Peace was 
not among the guests who thronged the gayly 
decorated parsonage. The old-time pain had come 
back, and she lay white and spent upon her bed in 
the Flag Room, watching with anguish in her heart 
while the other sisters made ready for the festivi- 
ties. They had demurred at leaving her. It 
seemed so selfish to go and enjoy themselves when 
she must stay behind and suffer, but she had 
insisted. 

‘‘Because I canT go to the pastor age myself isnT 
any reason why you should stick at home, too,’’ 
she told them. “Besides, I want to know all about 
it, and it takes the whole family to see everything.^^ 

“What in the world do you mean!” they 
chorused. 

And she explained, “Well, Gail remembers the 
speeches and what folks say just to each other. 
Faith hears only the music. Hope sees the pretty 
things folks wear. Cherry tells what they had to 
eat, and Allee fills up the chinks.” 

They laughed merrily at the small invalid’s 
powers of discernment, and were finally persuaded 


HEART OF GOLD 


151 


to attend the party which was barred to her. So 
they donned their daintiest dresses, robbed the 
greenhouse for their adornment, kissed the little 
sister fondly and hurried away into the night. 
Peace listened to the sound of their footsteps 
crunching through the hard-packed snow, until 
the last echo died away. Then turning her face to 
the wall, she gave way to a flood of bitter tears. 

‘‘Why, darling, cried the watchful Mrs. Camp- 
bell, kneeling beside the sobbing child and striving 
to soothe and comfort her, “what is the matter? 
Did you want to go so badly ?’^ 

“No, no, it ain’t that,” poor Peace hiccoughed, 
burying her head on the grandmotherly shoulder. 
“But I thought I was ’most well, and now the hurt 
has begun again. I ain’t crying ’cause the girls 
have gone, truly. It’s just that dreadful ache in 
my back. 0, Grandma, am I going to be like my 
Lilac Lady after all ? She had well days when she 
could read and sew; and then there were times 
when the pain was so bad that she couldn’t bear 
to see folks at all. I don’t want to die, but oh, 
Grandma, how can I stand that awful ache?” 

‘ ‘ O God, ’ ’ prayed the woman ’s heart, torn with 
agony at the sight of her darling’s suffering, “help 
us to make it easier for her.” 

And as if in answer to her petition, there was a 
step on the stair, and a big, stalwart, fur-coated 
figure stood unannounced in the doorway. Mrs. 
Campbell rose hurriedly to her feet and confronted 
the stranger. What right had he in her house? 
How came he there? 


152 


HEART OF GOLD 


He smiled reassuringly at her look of alarm, and 
something in his boyish face made Peace exclaim, 
‘‘You look like Pansy Shumway, though you Ye 
not so fat and homely. ’ ^ 

At that, he laughed outright. “ItY because I 
am her brother, I expect,^’ he answered simply. 

“0, are you Dr. Dick?’^ she cried eagerly. 

“Yes,’’ he replied. “They told me you could 
not come to our party, so I have brought the party 
to you, — a bit of it, at least. ’ ’ 

Fishing into the depths of his great pockets, he 
brought forth a marvelous array of cakes, candies, 
nuts and pop-corn, finally producing what looked 
to be a scarlet carnation in a tiny plantpot of rich 
loam, but upon investigation Peace found that 
her little nosegay was merely a flower thrust into 
a mound of chocolate ice-cream; and her delight 
made her forget her pain for a moment. 

“You’re a reg’lar Santy Claus,” she giggled. 
“Did you come down the chimbley? I never 
heard the door bell. ’ ’ 

“0, I met Prexy on the steps and he told me 
where to find you, so I came right up without 
further invitation. ’ ’ He did not add that for more 
than an hour he had been closeted with Dr. Camp- 
bell in the parsonage study, where the anxious 
President had sought him to learn if there could 
be any hope for their little Peace. 

“I s’pose the door is a safer way of getting into 
houses than falling down chimbleys would be,” 
said the girl, pleased with her own fancies. “But 
it would have seemed a little realer if you had 


HEART OF GOLD 


153 


tumbled out of the fireplace. Where is your pack, 
and what have you brought for meT^ 

‘ ‘ What would you like best ? ^ ^ he parried, study- 
ing the drawn face among the pillows. 

‘‘0, let me see — A new back, I guess, she 
sighed ruefully, as a sharp twinge of pain recalled 
her to her surroundings and caused her to writhe 
in agony, ‘‘and a pair of legs to match. You are 
a sure-enough doctor, ain ’t you ? Can ’t you mend 
me up again?'* The other doctors’ job didn’t last 
very long. ’ ’ 

“Perhaps if you will let me rub the little 
back — ” 

“0,1 can ’t bear to have a doctor touch it ! ” she 
shuddered. “They always make it hurt worse.” 

“I’ll be very careful,” he promised, “and if it 
hurts. I’ll stop right away.” 

Still she hesitated. 

“’FI could just go to sleep,” she sighed. “I’m 
so tired.” 

“You will go to sleep if you will let me rub the 
back a little. ’ ’ 

She looked incredulous, but another stinging 
pain brought the tears to her eyes, and she cried 
pitifully, “Yes, oh, yes, — just rub me now. It 
does hurt so bad I can’t help crying, and you 
don’t look as if you liked to poke people to 
pieces.” 

“It is my business to put people together 
again,” he said gravely, turning the pain-racked 
little body with deft hands, all the while keeping 
up a lively chatter to amuse the small sufferer. 


154 


HEART OF GOLD 


So light was his touch, so sympathetic his person- 
ality, that very soon the tense muscles began to 
relax, the drawn lines in the childish face gradu- 
ally smoothed themselves away, and the brown 
eyes grew heavy with sleep. 

Realizing that the Santa Claus stranger had 
kept his promise. Peace murmured drowsily, as 
she felt herself drifting away to slumberland, 
^‘You are a good doctor. Dr. Dick. I’ll hire you 
the next time I fall off a roof. I b ’lieve you could 
have mended me up if you ’d had first chance. ’ ’ 

‘‘Please God, it may not be too late now,” he 
muttered under his breath, and stole softly from 
the room to report his convictions to Dr. Campbell, 
who was waiting in the hall below. 


CHAPTER XI 


DOCTOR DICK 

It was Christmas Hay, but the Campbell house 
was very still. All sounds of revelry and mirth 
were hushed, for Peace, worn out by her long 
struggle with pain, had wakened only long enough 
to view the many gifts heaped about her cot, and 
then sleep had claimed her again. So the two ' 
younger girls had' been despatched to the Hill 
Street parsonage, where St. John and Elspeth 
were having a Christmas tree for Glen and tiny 
Bessie; and the three older sisters settled down to 
a quiet day at home, refusing all invitations from 
their many friends, because of a nameless fear 
that tugged at each breast, a feeling that perhaps 
they might be needed before the day was done. 

It had been such a strange day, so un-Christ- 
mas-like, so uncanny. All the long hours through, 
they had scarcely caught a glimpse of Hr. or Mrs. 
Campbell. Hr. Coates had made repeated trips to 
the house, the minister’s son had spent several 
hours in the President’s study, the minister him- 
self had been there a time or two, hut through it 
all no one had come to tell them what it was about, 
and Peace had slept wearily on. 

Then as the winter twilight gathered over the 
city, Gussie appeared to summon them to the 

155 


156 


HEART OP GOLD 


library below, but she could not answer their 
eager questions, for she knew no more than they; 
and each girl looked at the others with apprehen- 
sive eyes, as each heart whispered, ^‘It can’t be 
that we have lost her, — that she is dead instead of 
sleeping.” So with quaking limbs they hurried 
to the dimly-lighted study where the haggard 
President and his wife awaited them. 

^‘What do you think about another operation 
for Peace?” Dr. Campbell began, with distraught 
abruptness. 

Three hearts beat wildly with relief. She was 
still alive! 

‘^Is there no other hope?” Gail implored. 

He shook his head. 

^^Will a second operation give her a chance?” 
Hope eagerly questioned. 

fighting chance, we think.” 

‘^And without the operation — ^will she die?” 
asked Faith. 

^ ^ She will suffer as her Lilac Lady suffered and 
go as she went. Perhaps in five years, perhaps in 
ten. Perhaps — one will tell the story.” 

A deep silence fell upon them. Mrs. Campbell 
sat with her head buried in her arms, and from 
the occasional convulsive shiver of her shoulders, 
they knew that she was crying. Was the situation 
then so desperate? 

^ ‘ Who will operate ? ’ ’ Hope ’s low-voiced ques- 
tion sounded like the notes of a trumpet through 
the stillness of the room. 

^‘Dr. Shumway— ” 


HEART OF GOLD 


157 


'‘The minister's sonT’ 

"Yes.’’ 

"But he is so young!” 

"He has made a marvelous name for himself 
already as a children’s surgeon. He seldom loses 
a case.” 

"But — but he is a physician in Fairview, is he 
not?” asked Gail in worried tones. 

"Yes, that is where the rub comes. I thought 
perhaps if we offered him enough money he might 
operate here in Martindale and be with her 
through the worst of it at least, before returning 
to his work in Fairview, but he can’t see his way 
clear. He wants to take her back with him — ” 

"0, that would be dreadful,” the girls broke in. 
"Supposing she should — die — there all alone!” 

"She wouldn’t be alone,” the President ex- 
plained. "Mother and I would go, too.” 

"But the University — doesn’t it take months for 
a patient to get well after such an operation!” 
protested Faith. 

"Yes, but we would not stay until she had en- 
tirely recovered; only long enough to be sure all 
was well, and then — ” 

"I would go,” said Gail simply. 

' ' W ouldn ’t I do ? ” asked Hope. ' ' This is Gail ’s 
last year at the University, and she can’t gradu- 
ate if she loses a whole term.” 

"Peace is worth dozens of terms,” Gail an- 
swered softly. "Besides, I am the oldest, and 
Mother left her in my care. It is my place to go. ’ ’ 

"But we haven’t decided yet whether or not 


158 


HEART OF GOLD 


Peace herself is going to Fairview/^ Faith re- 
minded them. 

^‘That^s so/^ agreed Dr. Campbell. ^‘What is 
your wish in the matter?’’ 

^‘It seems to me we have decided,” suggested 
Gail. ‘‘We want to do everything we can for her, 
and if you think there is a — a chance — ” 

“Does she know?” interrupted Faith. 

“Not yet.” 

“Then why not leave the decision with her?” 

The President shook his head. “She is too 
young to know what is best for her, and we can- 
not raise false hopes in her heart. She has suf- 
fered too much already to be disappointed again — 
should the operation fail to accomplish the desired 
results. ’ ’ 

“But how are you going to get her to Fair- 
view without her knowing?” Hope frowned in 
bewilderment. 

“0, she will have to know about the opera- 
tion, but not what we hope will result. Hark! 
Don’t I hear her calling?” 

Just then the library door opened behind them, 
and Marie announced young Dr. Shumway. 

‘ ‘ Right on time, ’ ’ said the President, consulting 
his watch, “and your patient is just now awake. 
Will you tell her, doctor? We have decided to 
take the chance, but think you will make a better 
job of breaking the news to her.” 

“Very well,” replied the doctor promptly, not 
pausing to meet the other members of the family. 
“I’ll go right on up.” 


HEART OF GOLD 


159 


So he mounted the stairs to the Flag Room, 
wondering how he should broach the subject to 
the small maid soon to become his patient, but 
she gave him no chance for speech, for the instant 
she saw him bending over her, she exclaimed, 
dreamed about you last night, — the queerest 
dream ! ^ ’ 

‘^You did! Well now, isn’t that strange! I 
dreamed about you, too. ’ ’ 

‘‘0, tell me your dream,” she commanded, de- 
lighted at his words. 

‘ ^ You first, my girl. Then you shall hear mine. ’ ’ 
‘^Well, I thought I was on a hard, hard bed in 
the middle of a great, big room, and all around the 
room were rows and rows of shelves, just like the 
pickle closet in our Parker cellar. They were 
empty at first, but just as I was beginning to 
wonder what they were all for, I noticed a funny 
little hump-backed man sitting in one corner, 
dangling his legs over the edge of the shelf, and 
when I asked him who he was, he said he was one 
of my naughties. I didn’t know what he meant, 
so he ’xplained that he was the bad spirit inside of 
me, which painted Mr. Hardman’s barn once 
when I got mad at him. Then all of a sudden, I 
saw that the shelves were full, — just plumb full 
of people. Some were little and ugly, like the 
hump-back, and some were big and beautiful. 
The big ones were the goodies I had done. There 
was the time I sang for the hand-organ man, and 
the time I gave my circus money to the miss ’nary, 
and the time I took the sick monkey home, and 


160 


HEART OF GOLD 


the time I carried pansies to my Lilac Lady, and 
— oh, crowds of ^em. But I ’most believe there 
were more naughties than goodies like Faith’s 
State Fair cake which I spoiled, and the faces I 
made at old Skinflint when he wouldn’t let us 
pick raspberries and all the times I bothered 
Grandpa by giving away my own and other 
folks ’s junk. 0, I could see them all piled up on 
those shelves, and I began to cry about it, when 
who should come into the room but you and what 
do you s’pose you did. Dr. Dick?” 

‘‘I haven’t the faintest idea,” he confessed. 
‘‘Tell me quickly.” 

“You fished a pair of wooden legs out of your 
pocket and laid them on the bed, and when I 
asked you what they were for, you said you had 
brought them for me, so I could get up and chase 
the naughties away, to leave more room for the 
goodies.” 

“And did you do it?” the doctor gravely in- 
quired as the story-teller ceased abruptly. 

“I don’t know,” she answered wistfully. “I 
woke up just then. That’s always the way, — you 
never find out anything from a dream.” 

“Well, I think I must have finished up your 
dream for you,” said the doctor musingly, “for in 
my dream I was back at my old job in the hospital 
and I found the head nurse making up a bed in 
one of the little rooms one day. The head nurse, 
mind you, who has altogether too many things to 
attend to without making up beds. So I asked 
her what she thought she was doing, and she said 


HEART OF GOLD 


161 


there was a little girl in the office downstairs, who 
wanted a new pair of legs, and she was getting the 
room ready so we could mend this child right 
away. So I went off to see if I could find some 
nice, strong legs for the little girl, and when I 
came back she was lying in the bed, and I was 
surprised to discover that I knew her. Who do 
you suppose it was ? ^ ’ 

‘‘I s’pose you dreamed it was me,’’ said Peace, 
not much impressed by the narrative, which 
sounded quite flat and tame to her. 

‘‘Yes,” said the doctor, somewhat disconcerted 
by her lack of interest. “I dreamed it was you. 
How do you think you would like to make the 
dream come true?” 

“How?” she asked, a little startled at the 
suggestion. 

“By going to the hospital and having another 
operation — ” 

“0, I’m tired of being cut up, ’ ’ she interrupted 
wearily. “I had one operation already, and the 
pain came back just the same, even if we did hire 
some old doctors which had been in the business 
for ages and ages. ’ ’ 

“Well, I am not a graybeard,” Dr. Shumway 
assented, ‘ ‘ but I think I could help the little back 
some, anyway.” 

‘ ‘Would you do the operating ? ’ ’ The big brown 
eyes opened wide in surprise. 

“Sure. Why not?” 

“You don’t look as if you knew enough.” 

The doctor gasped. 


162 


HEART OF GOLD 


“Well, I mean you haven’t got any white hair 
and wrinkles,” Peace explained, perceiving that 
she had said something amiss. “You look as if 
you hadn’t been a man for a very long time. But 
p’r’aps you know more than folks would think. 
Have you talked to Grandpa about it ? ” 

“Yes, and he is willing to take the chance if you 
are. ’ ’ 

“Well, that’s something, — from him. It was 
ever so long before he would let Dr. Coates 
operate. You must know your business or he’d 
never have said yes. When will it happen?” she 
asked. 

“In a couple of days or so — ” 

^‘That soon?” 

“The sooner the better. We’ll leave here to- 
morrow for Fairview — ” 

“O, do I have to go away for it?” The great 
eyes looked startled and half fearful. 

“Yes, to Danbury Hospital in Fairview, and — ” 
“0, then I’ll go, sure!” She clapped her thin 
hands gleefully. “I always did want to see the 
insides of a hospital. I’ve often visited one, but 
never had to live there a day, for they operated 
on me at home before. Mercy, I’m having a lot of 
’xperiences, ain’t I? Here comes Grandpa now, 
and the rest of the bunch. Hello, folkses! Guess 
what’s going to happen! I’m going to Fairview 
Hospital tomorrow in Danbury, and be cut to 
pieces again. Dr. Dick is to do the operation. I 
b’lieve he knows enough, even if he ain’t a gray- 
back; and he thinks he can stop the hurting, so it 


HEART OP GOLD 


163 


won’t come back any more. That’s worth trying 
for, ain’t it?” 

‘‘But tomorrow — ” gasped the girls. “Is it to 
be that soon?” 

“We ought to leave here tomorrow,” explained 
Dr. Shumway. “The operation will take place 
as soon after that as we can get her rested up 
for it.” 

“Then it is all settled!” sighed the President in 
relief, and a great burden seemed lifted from his 
shoulders. Somehow, the strong, earnest face of 
the young doctor inspired confidence and courage 
in the hearts of others, and they could not but feel 
that all would go well with their little invalid. 

So they departed the next day for Fairview, — 
the President and his wife. Dr. Shumway and his 
patient, — and a few days later Peace found her- 
self lying on the operating table in a great, white 
room of the hospital, with white-capped nurses 
flitting noiselessly about, and white-gowned 
doctors passing to and fro. 

“It’s like my dream,” she whispered. “Only 
there aren’t any shelves filled with goods and 
bads. — ^Well, Dr. Dick, if you aren’t a fright! I 
never should have known you if you hadn’t 
spoken. You look like the pictures in our Sunday 
School lessons of how they used to bury folks in 
the Bible, with that nightgown on and all that 
white stuff over your head. It’s rather ’propriate, 
though, for this room looks like a car-slop-egus. 
Isn’t that what you call the graves they used to 
put people in?” 


164 


HEART OF GOLD 


‘‘Sarcophagus/’ suggested the doctor, only the 
twinkle of his deep blue eyes betraying his amuse- 
ment. “That is a casket of stone. Is that what 
you mean?” 

“Yes, I guess so, though I thought it was a 
room hacked out of the side of a hill where they 
stuck folks when they died, instead of putting them 
in graves like we do. Where is the man which is 
going to give me the antiseptic?^* 

“Right here, my girl,” chuckled a deep voice 
on the other side of her, and she looked up into 
the eyes of a second white- swathed figure, already 
beginning to adjust the anaesthetizer over her 
head. “Now don’t be afraid. Just take a deep, 
deep breath — ” 

“I know all about it,” she interrupted. “I’ve 
been through this same performance once before. 
That stuff hasn’t changed its smell a bit, either. 
Are you all ready? Well, then, good-night. If 
Dr. Dick don’t know his business, I ’xpect I’m a 
goner. ’ ’ 

The bright eyes drooped shut, the childish voice 
trailed off into silence, and the little patient slept 
while the skillful surgeons mended the bruised 
back and useless limbs. 


CHAPTER XII 


MISS WAYNE 

Peace awoke to find herself lying in a narrow 
iron bed, drawn close beside a window, through 
which she could see clouds of great, feathery 
snow-flakes swirling lazily, softly downwards; and 
not remembering where she was or how she came 
to be there, she murmured half aloud, ‘ ^ The angels 
seem to be shedding their feathers pretty lively 
today, donT theyT^ 

‘‘What did you sayT’ asked a strange voice 
from somewhere in the background, and a sweet 
face framed in glossy black hair bent over her. 

“Maybe it’s heaven after all,” mused Peace to 
herself, “though I should think they would have 
decorations on the walls of heaven, ’nstead of 
leaving ’em naked.” Then she spoke aloud, sur- 
prised at the effort it cost her, “Are you a dead 
nurse?” 

“Do I look very dead?” questioned the strange 
voice again, and the face above her broke into a 
rare smile. 

“Well, then, how did you get to heaven?” 

“This isn’t heaven, dear. You are in Danbury 
Hospital. Have you forgotten ? ” 

“0, that’s so. I remember now. It’s nice to 
know you ain’t an angel.” 

165 


166 


HEART OF GOLD 


The nurse laughed outright. ‘‘Yes, I^m glad, 
too, for I want to live a long time. The world is 
full of so many things I want to see. ’ ’ 

“That’s me, too, hut I thought I was dead sure 
this time.” 

“No, dear, you are very much alive and are 
going to get well.” 

“That’s good, but what’s the matter? I can’t 
get my breath. ’ ’ 

“It’s the ether, childie. You will be all right 
soon, but you must not talk now. Just rest. Sleep 
if you can, so you can visit with Grandfather and 
Grandmother Campbell. They are anxious to see 
you. ’ ’ 

Meanwhile, downstairs in the office of the great 
hospital, the President and his wife had sat like 
statues through all those interminable minutes 
which were to tell the story of whether the little 
life was to be spared or sacrificed. Vaguely they 
heard the bustle of busy nurses, vaguely they saw 
the doctors hurrying in and out about their duties; 
but not once did either man or woman move from 
the great chairs in which they sat. Sometimes it 
seemed to the matron and head-nurse, who oc- 
casionally passed that way, as if both had been 
turned to stone, so fixed was their gaze, so rigid 
their bodies. But in reality neither had ever been 
more keenly alive. Each heart was reviewing 
with painful accuracy the two short years that had 
gone since the little band of orphans had come to 
live with them. How much had happened in that 


HEART OF GOLD 


167 


time, and how dearly they had come to love each 
one of the sisters ! 

could not care more for them if they were 
my own,’’ whispered Mrs. Campbell to herself. 

“They are like my own flesh and blood,” 
thought the President. 

“I know a mother is not supposed to have 
favorites among her children, ’ ’ mused Mrs. Camp- 
bell, half guiltily, “but there is something about 
Peace which makes her seem just a little the 
dearest to me.” 

“They are all such lovable girls,” the Presi- 
dent told himself, “but somehow I can’t help 
liking Peace a little the best. Everyone does. I 
wonder why.” 

So they sat there side by side in the great hos- 
pital and pondered, waiting for the verdict from 
the white room above them. 

Suddenly Dr. Shumway stood before them. 
“It is all over,” he began, smiling cheerfully. 
“She will — ” 

“All over,” whispered Mrs. Campbell, and 
fainted quite away. 

When she opened her eyes again, the young 
doctor was bending over her, chafing her hands, 
and she heard his remorseful voice saying, “My 
dear Mrs. Campbell, you misunderstood me. The 
operation was successful. The little one will live. ’ ’ 

“Ah, yes, I know,” sighed the woman. “But 
it was such a relief to know the ordeal was ended 
that I couldn’t bear the joy of the news. I am 
all right now. When can we see our girl 1 ’ ’ 


.168 


HEART OF GOLD 


Quickly the good news was flashed over the 
wires to the anxious hearts in Martindale, ‘^Opera- 
tion successful. Peace will walk again. And 
great was the rejoicing everywhere. 

Only Peace herself seemed undisturbed, taking 
everything as a matter of course, obeying the 
nurse ^s orders, and asking no questions concern- 
ing her own welfare, though she asked enough 
about other people’s affairs to make up, and soon 
became a source of unending amusement to the 
hospital attendants, who made every excuse im- 
aginable to talk with this dear little, queer little 
patient in her room. 

Peace was in her element. Nothing suited her 
quite so well as to make new friends, and she was 
delighted at the interest the busy nurses and 
doctors displayed in her case. “Why, Miss 
Wayne,” she sighed ecstatically one day when she 
had been in the hospital for a month, ‘ ‘ I know the 
name of every nurse and doctor in this building, 
and pretty near all the patients. The only trouble 
with them is they change so often I really can’t 
get much acquainted before they go home. I’m 
just wild to get into that wheel-chair which Dr. 
Dick has promised me as soon as I get strong 
enough; for then I can go visiting the other sick 
folks, can’t I? Dr. Dick says I can, and I’m crazy 
to see what they look like. I can’t tell very well 
from what the nurses say about their patients just 
what they look like. I try to ’magine while I’m 
lying here all day, but you know how ’tis, — the 
ones who have the prettiest names are as homely 


HEART OF GOLD 


169 


as sin usually; and the pretty ones have the 
homely names. 

‘ ‘ There ’s the little lady down the hall who keeps 
sending me jelly and things she canT eat. The 
head nurse, Miss Gee, — ainT that an awful funny 
name ? I call her Skew Gee, because her first name 
is Sue. Well, she told me that this lady has been 
in the hospital four years. Four years! Think of 
it! And that she never says a cross word to any- 
one, but when the pain gets bad she sings until it^s 
better. No wonder that man loved her and wanted 
to marry her even if she will always be an 
invalid. ’ ’ 

‘ * What do you know about love and marriage ? ’ ’ 
teased the nurse, laying out fresh linen and test- 
ing the water in a huge bowl by the bed. 

‘‘I know I’d have married her, too, if I’d been in 
his shoes. She must be a darling. I’m very 
anxious to see if she is pretty. Miss Gee says she 
is. She says that typhoid girl is pretty, too. The 
one who has been here ten weeks now and is still 
so sick. I don’t s’pose they’d let me see her yet. 
She calls one of her legs Isaiah and the other 
Jeremiah, ’cause one of ’em doesn’t bother her and 
the other does. Isaiah in the Bible told about the 
good things that were going to happen, and 
Jeremiah was always* growling about the bad 
things that had happened. She must be a funny 
girl to figure all that out, don’t you think? Then 
there are those two little girls in the Children’s 
Ward, — the one wdth the hip disease that’s been 
here two whole years, and the other that’s got 


170 


HEART OF GOLD 


pugnacious aenemia. I^d like awful well to see 
them, ^cause neither one has a mother. And 
there’s the weenty, weenty woman with nervous 
prospertation, but I’m most p’ticularly interested 
in Billy Bolee. 

Nurse Redfern brought him in to see me a few 
minutes ago, while you were eating your break- 
fast. Isn’t he the prettiest little fellow you ever 
saw, and hasn’t he got the worst name! I don’t 
see what his mother could be thinking about to 
call him that.” 

‘‘But that isn’t his real name, dear,” answered 
the nurse, busy at making her talkative little 
patient comfortable for the day. 

“Then why do they call him that!” 

“Because we don’t know his real name. His 
mother died here in the hospital weeks ago with- 
out telling us who she was or anything about her 
history. The baby talked nothing but Dutch, and 
though Dr. Kruger, of the hospital staff, is Dutch, 
he could not make out from the child’s baby-talk 
what his name is.” 

“And so they picked out that horrid Billy-Bolee 
name,” exclaimed Peace disgustedly. 

“That was because he kept saying something 
which sounded like Billy Bolee. We didn’t know 
what he meant, but began to refer to him in that 
manner, and the name stuck. ’ ’ 

“Does he talk American now!” 

“A little, but of course it is like learning to talk 
again, and we often have to get Dr. Kruger to in- 
terpret his wants even yet. I’ll never forget one 


HEART OF GOLD 


171 


of the first nights he was here. He cried and 
cried until the whole staff of nurses was nearly 
frantic, because we could find nothing to soothe 
him. He kept repeating some strange words, as 
if he was trying to tell us what he wanted, but 
none of us understood. At that time we didn’t 
even know his nationality, but while he was still 
howling lustily. Dr. Kruger came upstairs on his 
evening round of calls, and he stopped to see what 
was the trouble with Miss Redfern ’s charge. Then 
how he laughed! Poor Billy Bolee was begging 
to be put in bed, and here we ’d been trying for an 
hour to find out what was the matter. ’ ’ 

Peace laughed heartily. ‘ ‘ That was a good joke 
on the nurses, wasn’t it?” she remarked, when 
her merriment had subsided. ‘‘But why do you 
keep him here now if his mother is dead?” 

“The doctors are endeavoring to cure his little 
foot so he can walk all right again. He was hurt in 
the same railroad accident which killed his 
mother, and the injury has made one leg shorter 
than the other.” 

“O,” cried Peace in horror. “And he hasn’t 
any relations to take care of him after he gets 
well?” 

“Not that we know of.” 

“Then what will you do with him? He can’t 
live here always, can he ? ” 

“No. Some day he will have to be sent to a 
Children’s Home or some such institution where 
homeless waifs are cared for, until some kind heart 
adopts him.” 


172 


HEART OP GOLD 


‘‘But no one wants lame children to adopt/’ 
Peace protested. “Do you s’pose Billy Bolee will 
ever get adopted!” 

“We hope so.” 

Peace was silent a moment, then thoughtfully 
remarked, “There was a fat old hen in our church 
— there! I didn’t mean to say fat, ’cause I 
wouldn’t hurt your feelings for the world, — but 
Mrs. Burns was fat, and she used to come over to 
our house after I got hurt and tell me how thank- 
ful I ought to be. It made me awful mad at first, 
but I b’lieve I know now what she meant. Now 
there’s my Lilac Lady, — she had heaps of money, 
and a great, splendid house to live in, and Aunt 
Pen to take care of her ; so even if she never could 
walk again, ’twasn’t as bad as it would have been 
s ’posing she was poor and didn’t have anything 
of her own. Then there’s me. If I had fallen off 
a roof in Parker and cracked my back, ’twould 
have been perfectly awful, ’cause there would have 
been no money for doctors and such like, and I 
guess it costs heaps to get operated on. But as 
it is now, I’ve got Grandpa and Grandma Camp- 
bell to take care of me, and there ain ’t any danger 
of my being sent to a Children’s Home or the 
poor farm. There are a pile of thankfuls in this 
world, ain’t there!” 

“Yes indeed,” answered the nurse warmly. 
“This world is a pretty good old world, and no 
matter what happens, there is always something 
left for every one to be thankful about. Isn’t 
that so!” 


HEART OF GOLD 


173 


‘‘TJh-huli. That’s what Papa used to tell us, 
and before every Thanksgiving dinner we had to 
think up some p ’tic ’lar big thankful that had hap- 
pened to us that year. Even after he and Mamma 
had gone to Heaven, Gail made us do the same 
thing, and you’d be s ’prised to see the things we 
dug up to be thankful about even if we were 
orphants, and poorer than mice. One year I 
managed to kill a turkey that b ’longed to another 
man; so we had some meat for dinner when we 
hadn’t really expected any. ’Twasn’t often we got 
turkey^ either, — not even when Papa was alive. 
But we always have it at Grandpa’s on Thanks- 
giving and Christmas. I’m very fond of turkey, 
ain’t you?” 

^‘Yes, I am quite partial to Mr. Gobbler, too,” 
smiled Miss Wayne reminiscently, ‘‘but we nurses 
don’t always get a taste of it on Thanksgiving- 
Day, either.” 

“Can’t the hospital afford turkeys once a year?” 
asked Peace in shocked surprise. 

“But a nurse doesn’t live at the hospital always, 
you know. After she graduates, most of her cases 
are in private homes, and it all depends upon where 
she is on the holidays as to what she gets to eat or 
how she amuses herself. Now, Christmas Day this 
year I spent with my married brother on his farm 
near St. Cloud, but it is the first time I have been 
with any of my own people for a holiday during 
the last four years. On Thanksgiving I was tak- 
ing care of a little girl who had diphtheria, and we 
were shut off upstairs all by ourselves, seeing no 


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HEART OF GOLD 


one but the doctor from one day^s end to the next. 
Poor Zella was too sick to know what day it was, 
and I was too anxious about her to care, so neither 
of us got any turkey. 

‘ ‘ One year I was miles out in the country, nurs- 
ing a worn-out mother, who had seven children, 
all younger than you. She was a farmer ^s wife, 
and they were huddled in the dirtiest bit of a 
hovel that I ever saw. The hogs and chickens 
used to come into the kitchen whenever the door 
was opened, and no one ever thought of driving 
them out. They didn’t know what it meant to be 
clean, and were shocked almost to death when I 
tried to give the latest baby a bath. There wasn ’t 
a broom in the house and no one knew what I 
wanted when I asked for a mop. We had literally 
to shovel the dirt off those floors. 

‘‘The children had never been taught to pray, 
they knew absolutely nothing about the Bible, 
had never even heard the name of Jesus except 
in swearing. Christmas Day was unheard of, and 
Thanksgiving a riddle; and when I asked the 
father if we might not have a hen for dinner on 
that occasion, he said there were none to spare for 
such nonsensical purposes.” 

“But you got one anyway, didn’t you?” Peace 
eagerly asked, for she had learned to love Miss 
Wayne dearly, and seemed to think that the 
earnest, whole-hearted, sympathizing woman was 
capable of anything. 

“No, not from him,” the nurse replied, knitting 
her brows as if the thought still made her angry. 


HEART OF GOLD 


175 


his answer got my dander np, and the chil- 
dren were so disappointed, for I had told them all 
about our Thanksgiving Day, that I determined to 
cook them a sure-enough Thanksgiving dinner if 
I could manage it. There was one girl in the 
family, — little five-year-old Essie, — and I gave 
her a half dollar and sent her over to their nearest 
neighbor to see if he would sell us a small turkey. 
He had already disposed of his turkeys, however, 
and had no hens for sale either; but he gave Essie 
a big duck and a handful of silver in exchange for 
the money she had given him, and she came back 
as proud as a peacock to display her wares. I 
saw at once when she passed me the change that 
he had not charged her a cent for the duck, so I 
put the money back into her little hand and told 
her that she was to keep it. At first she was re- 
luctant, though her big, eager eyes showed how 
much she really wanted it ; and after a while I made 
her understand that I actually meant to give it to 
her for her very own. But when she took it to 
her^other, the little woman called me to the bed 
and explained that it would do the child no good 
in that form, because the lazy, shiftless, good-for- 
nothing father would take it to buy tobacco. ^ The 
children can’t save a penny,’ she said sadly. 
‘When once he gets his hands on it, they never 
see it again. But if you really want Essie to have 
the money, won’t you take it and buy her a doll? 
She has never had one of her own, and it would 
please her more than anything you could do.’ 


176 


HEART OF GOLD 


‘‘So I put the money back into my purse and 
promised Essie a doll instead, which should open 
and shut its eyes and have real hair. Christmas 
was near at hand, and I made up my mind that I 
would dress the doll as daintily as possible and 
send it to her in time for Christmas Eve, so the 
mother could put it in her little stocking, for all 
the children had expressed a determination to 
hang up their stockings that year like the children 
in the stories I had told them. So, when about a 
week before Christmas, I was able to leave the 
dirty little hovel, I searched the stores through for 
the kind of a doll Essie wanted, and made it a beau- 
tiful set of lace-trimmed clothes which really but- 
toned up. My mother and sisters were greatly in- 
terested in the story of this neglected family, and 
they decided that we must pack a box for all the 
children, so none of the little stockings would be 
empty on Christmas morn. Accordingly, we 
picked up some old clothing, whole and 
serviceable — 

“Just like the ladies do each year for the mis- 
sionaries on the frontier, Peace interrupted with 
breathless interest. 

‘ ‘ V ery much, only on a smaller scale. W e didn ^t 
try to outfit the whole family, but included some- 
thing for each member, — except the father, — and 
filled up the corners with candy and nuts. Podr 
Mrs. Martin had been so interested in the Bible 
stories which she had heard me telling the chil- 
dren that I got her a nicely bound Bible, marking 
the passages which she had liked the best; and she 


HEART OF GOLD 


177 


really seemed delighted to get it. She could write 
a little, and she sent me a very grateful little 
letter of thanks when the box arrived, telling me 
how much the children had enjoyed their share of 
the good things, and particularly how pleased 
Essie was with her doll. 

“When I first went to care for Mrs. Martin on 
the worthless little farm, there was only one stove 
in the ramshackle house and that was in the 
kitchen. It was positively necessary to have her 
bed-room warm and comfortable, so I made Mr. 
Martin get another stove for that purpose. There 
was no chimney in that part of the house, how- 
ever, and he cut a hole through the ceiling and 
stuck the stove-pipe through that into a big cham- 
ber above, where, by some means or other, he 
connected it up with the kitchen chimney. It was 
very unsafe, of course, and I protested against 
it, but he would not listen to me; so all the while 
I was under that roof, I watched the stove every 
minute, for fear it would set the house afire. But 
it didn’t, and he laughed at my worry, but not 
long after I had left there while it was still very 
cold weather, the old place did burn down one 
night. The family was rescued by their neigh- 
bors, but they lost everything they had. Mrs. 
Martin wrote me about the disaster, telling how 
sorry she was to lose her Bible, and how terribly 
grieved Essie was over the loss of her treasure. 
Naturally I was sorry, too, and when Christmas 
came again, I dressed another doll for Essie, bought 
another Bible for Mrs. Martin, and packed another 


178 


HEART OF GOLD 


box for the whole family. Again the mother wrote 
me a letter of thanks, bnt it didn^t sound sincere 
to me this time, and when in closing she said that 
Jerry, her husband, thought I might at least have 
included a plug of tobacco for him, I made up my 
mind that all they wanted was what they could 
get out of me.’’ 

‘^So you didn’t send them any more dolls and 
Bibles, ’ ’ Peace soliloquized, when the nurse paused 
in her narrative. 

“They didn’t appreciate them,” Miss Wayne 
answered wistfully. “One doesn’t enjoy being 
liked for one’s money. I want folks to like 

The little invalid lay with intent eyes fixed upon 
the ceiling while she reviewed the story she had 
just heard ; then she said gravely, ^ ‘ I think it was 
Jerry who wrote for the plug of tobacco.” 

“Jerry!” 

“Well, Mr. Martin, I mean.” 

“But Mrs. Martin wrote the letter.” 

“I’ll bet he was peeking over her shoulder and 
made her put in about that plug of tobacco, just 
the same,” Peace persisted. “I b’lieve Essie and 
her mother really cared. ’Twas him that wanted 
just your money. Some women get married to 
some awful mean men.” 

“Yes,” sighed the nurse, more to herself than 
for Peace’s benefit. “That is very true, and Jerry 
was one of them.” 

“There are lots of nice men, though,” Peace 
hastened to add, for Miss Wayne’s face looked so 
unusually grave and sad. “There’s Grandpa and 


HEART OF GOLD 


179 


St. John, and — and Dr. Dick. He isn’t married 
yet, either. Neither is Dr. Race, is he? When I 
was in the sun parlor yesterday afternoon, I heard 
one of the nurses tell that new special that Miss 
Swift had set her trap for Dr. Race. What did she 
mean? It sounded like they thought he was a 
mouse — ” 

‘‘Hush! 0, Peace! You misunderstood. You 
mustn’t repeat such things. It — I — oh, dear, what 
can I say?” 

“Well, I ’xpect they meant that Miss Swift is 
trying to marry Dr. Race, and I s’pose the rest 
are jealous. Frances Sherrar is going to be mar- 
ried to one of the professors at the University, 
and I heard Gail telling Grandma how jealous 
some of the girls are. I s’pose it’s the same with 
the nurses. Only I sh’d hate to see Dr. Race 
marry Miss Swift ’cause I don’t like her. She’s 
too snippy. Why didn’t you ever get married? 
You’re so nice and — and — ” 

Miss Wayne’s face had flushed a brilliant crim- 
son, and hastily gathering up soap and towels, 
she made ready for a hurried flight, but found her 
way blocked by a stalwart figure in the doorway, 
whose twinkling eyes and smiling lips betrayed 
the fact that he had overheard at least part of 
their conversation. 

Embarrassed, the nurse set down the bowl of 
water poised perilously on one arm, and stam- 
mered, “I — I beg your pardon. Dr. Shumway. 
You are rather late this morning, or am I early? 
I mean, you — I — we — ” 


180 


HEART OF GOLD 


‘‘There, there, Miss Wayne, donT get excited,’^ 
a laughing voice said teasingly. “Take heart. 
Remember, ‘the Race is not always to the Swift.’ ” 
“O, Dr. Dick!” Peace interrupted from the 
little cot by the window. “Is that you at last? 
I’ve been watching hours for you to come. I’ve 
got the splendidest news to tell. Gail is here, — 
my sister Gail. I know you will like her. ’ ’ Then, 
as her eyes fell upon the great wicker chair which 
the doctor was dragging behind him, she straight- 
way forgot all else, and shrieked ecstatically, 
“Dr. Dick, what have you got there ? Is it for me ? 
A wheel-chair? Oh, oh, oh! Put me in it right 
away. Now I can go and see some of the other 
sick folks, can’t I?” 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE LITTLE AUTHOR LADY 

“Well, Peace, my dear little Peace, I am afraid 
the time has come for me to leave you. ^ ’ 

Miss Wayne had entered the sick room noise- 
lessly, and, pausing beside the wheel-chair, stood 
looking with tenderly wistful eyes down at the 
face of her small charge, who, propped up among 
her pillows, was animatedly watching the trafl&c in 
the street below. 

“0, Miss Wayne, Peace, so engrossed with 
what she had seen that she did not catch the sig- 
nificance of the nurse ^s remark, lifted her bright 
shining eyes to the face above her and giggled, 
“why didnT you come sooner? You missed the 
biggest sight of your life. It was so funny! There 
was a runaway, and the horse chased across our 
lawn just as Dr. Canfield came up the walk. He 
had his medicine case in one hand and an um- 
brella in the other, and he let out a big yell and 
began to wave them both around his head while 
he danced up and down in front of the horse. I 
guess he was trying to keep it out of a garden in 
the middle of the yard, but the old beast didn’t 
shoo worth a cent, and the doctor had to do some 
lively dodging to get out of its way. He is so 
short and fat and pudgy that he did look too 


181 


182 


HEART OF GOLD 


funny for anything, hopping around like a rub- 
ber ball and squealing like a pig. He kept a-hol- 
lering, ‘0, my cannons, oh, my cannons!’ But the 
horse went straight through the garden just the 
same, and now the doctor’s down on his knees in 
the mud digging up some onions and looking ’em 
all over carefully.” 

Miss Wayne’s merry laugh joined in with that 
of her patient, and following Peace ’s example, she 
pressed her face against the window pane and 
looked down at the panting, puffing figure on the 
muddy, trampled turf below. ‘‘It’s his cannas,” 
she explained. “He always has an immense bed 
of red canna lilies in the center of the lawn every 
summer. They are the pride of his heart, and 
I can imagine what he felt like to have a team 
plough through his precious garden. Fortunately, 
it is so early in the Spring that the bulbs have not 
yet sprouted, so I guess there is not much damage 
done. ‘Canfield’s Cannas’ is a hospital joke. I 
wish I could have seen his encounter with the 
runaway. ’ ’ 

Wiping the mirthful tears from her eyes, she 
turned to the tiny closet in the corner of the room, 
dragged forth a suitcase, and began to take down 
some garments from the hooks, preparatory to 
packing. 

“Why, Miss Wayne,” cried Peace, her atten- 
tion attracted by the sound of the valise on the 
floor. “Whatever are you doing?” 

“Gathering up my scattered belongings ready 
for departure — ” 


HEART OF GOLD 


183 


‘‘Departure!’’ echoed the child in great dismay. 
“Why, where are you going?” 

‘ * I have another case, my dear, which needs my 
attention. ’ ’ 

“But you can’t go now! You’ve got me to look 
after.” 

“My dear child!” cried the woman in shocked 
surprise. “Do you mean to say that no one has 
told you that I must go!” 

“I hain’t heard a word about it before,” de- 
clared the distressed Peace. ^'Why do you have 
to go?” 

“You don’t need me any longer — ” 

“But I want you. Please don’t go!” 

“I must, childie. It is no longer necessary for 
you to have a special nurse. Your sister is here 
almost all the daytime, and you are getting around 
splendidly in your wheel-chair.” 

“But can’t folks have special nurses when they 
don’t need them, but just want them?” 

“0, yes, if they have plenty of money so they 
can afford it, but it is a needless expense, and as 
you will have to stay here for many weeks yet, 
you surely don’t want to make your grandfather 
pay extra for a special nurse whose work is done, 
do you?” 

‘ ‘ N — o, ’ ’ Peace reluctantly replied. ‘ ‘ But I like 
you. I — I don’t want you to go — yet.” 

“I am very glad you feel that way, girlie, but 
you see how it is, don ’t you ? Of course. Dr. Camp- 
bell won’t listen to my going if you insist upon my 
staying, but you don’t mean to be selfish, I know.” 


184 


HEART OF GOLD 


‘ ‘ I don ’t b dieve you care, ’ ’ pouted Peace. 

Ah, my child, you can never know how much! 
answered the woman with unexpected warmth; 
and Peace, convinced, cried contritely, ‘‘I didn’t 
mean that. Miss Wayne, truly. But, oh, how I 
hate to have you go! It’ll be so lonesome!” 

‘^0, no. You are progressing famously in the 
handling of your chair, and now you can carry a 
little sunshine into the other sick rooms. Lots of 
patients will be delighted to see our little canary, 
— you know that is what the little lady down the 
hall has called you ever since she heard you whis- 
tling so merrily the other day.” 

The thin face brightened. ‘‘Yes, it will be 
lovely to get acquainted with all these sick folks, ’ ’ 
she acknowledged, “but that won’t make up for 
losing you. ’ ’ 

Miss Wayne smiled her appreciation of the com- 
pliment, as she replied, “You won’t lose me en- 
tirely yet. My new case is to be here in the hos- 
pital, too. The ambulance will bring him in this 
afternoon; so perhaps you will see quite a little 
of me for some weeks — days to come.” 

‘ ‘ 0, goody! That will be nice, if I must give you 
up, to have you still in the hospital. Who is your 
new patient?” 

“An old, old gentleman who fell on the pave- 
ment yesterday and fractured his hip.” 

“Does Dr. Dick take care of him?” 

“No, he is Dr. Race’s patient.” 

“0, dear! S ’posing Dr. Race won’t let you 
come and. see me sometimes?” 


HEART OP GOLD 


185 


‘ ‘ Then you come and see me. ’ ’ 

‘‘That’s so. I can go in my chair, can’t I? 
How nice it is to be able to get about by yourself 
again, when it’s been so you couldn’t for such a 
long time!” And Peace rolled the light chair 
across the floor to watch the brief process of pack- 
ing, while she laid eager plans for seeing her be- 
loved nurse each day. 

But she did miss the dear woman very much at 
first. Being cared for by general nurses, who must 
be summoned by bell every time they are needed, 
is vastly different from having one special nurse 
constantly within call; and Peace felt this dif- 
ference keenly in spite of Gail’s daily presence. 
But as Miss Wayne had predicted, she found her 
wheel-chair a great diversion and a source of 
much amusement. It was such fun to be able to 
propel one’s self along the wide corridors and 
Peace’s natural curiosity and investigative habit 
were never so well satisfied as when she was pok- 
ing about to see for herself what was happening 
around her. 

Her reputation had preceded her all over the 
great building, and as soon as the other invalids 
learned that she had graduated to a wheel-chair, 
they were one and all eager to make her acquaint- 
ance; so Peace spent many happy hours forming 
friendships among the inmates of Danbury Hos- 
pital. Her sunny disposition seemed contagious, 
and the nurses welcomed the sight of her bright 
face, knowing that she would bring cheer into 
their domains if anyone could; for, in spite of her 


186 


HEART OF GOLD 


amazing frankness, there was something quaintly 
attractive in her speech and manner that was ir- 
resistible, and every heart felt better for having 
known her. 

One day, as she was gliding noiselessly down 
the deserted corridor, the elevator stopped at that 
floor and another wheel-chair patient rolled out 
into view. 

‘‘Now why didn^t I think of that before,’’ ex- 
claimed Peace to herself. “The wards are on the 
third floor and I’ve never seen them yet. I’m 
going up.” 

To think was to act, and when next the lift stood 
still at the second floor. Peace rolled her chair into 
the iron cage and said in matter-of-fact tones, 
‘ ‘ Three. ’ ’ 

The operator glared at her suspiciously, but she 
seemed so cheerfully unconcerned that he decided 
she must have permission to visit the wards; so he 
closed the iron gate with a clang, and the elevator 
rose slowly to the floor above. 

As the wheel-chair glided out into the upper 
corridor. Peace glanced curiously about her, mar- 
velling to see so many doors closed. Then, as her 
sharp eyes spied one door standing open far down 
the hall, she started in that direction, but halted at 
the sound of a stifled sob, seemingly almost beside 
her. 

Peering into a dim recess by the elevator shaft, 
which had at one time evidently been used for a 
store-room. Peace discovered a figure huddled for- 
lornly in the corner, weeping disconsolately. 


HEART OF GOLD 


187 


‘‘Why, what’s the matter?” cried the brown- 
eyed girl, her mind flying back to school days and 
punishments. “Have you been bad and got stood 
in a comer?” 

The weeper started violently, dropped her band- 
aged hands and stared in frightened wonder at the 
child before her, but she made no reply, and again 
Peace demanded, ‘ ‘ What seems to be the trouble ? ’ ’ 

“Sh!” hissed the stranger. “Don’t yell like 
that. Come inside if you are bound to stop. I’ve 
run away from my nurse.” 

“Can you run?” 

“Well, walked, then. She left me in the sun- 
parlor, 1> — but I can’t s — stay there with everyone 
staring and asking q — questions. ’ ’ And again the 
tears began to fall. 

“Shall I call your nurse?” Peace inquired, un- 
easy and alarmed at the vehemence of the older 
girl’s grief. 

“No! No! For goodness’ sake, no! She won’t 
let me cry, and I’ve got to, or — or — ” 

“Bu’st,” suggested Peace, nodding her head 
sympathetically. “Yes, I know how ’tis. The 
nurse I had the first time after I was hurt wouldn ’t 
let me cry, either. But this time Miss Wayne never 
said ‘boo,’ when I couldn’t hold in any longer. 
She’d let me have it all out by myself and 
then she’d come and tell me a funny story. She 
had sense.” 

“I wish Miss Pierson had some. She’s always 
preaching sunshine and smiles. It’s no wonder 
that girl downstairs can whistle and laugh. She's 


188 


HEART OF GOLD 


got folks to look after her all her life, and money 
to buy anything she wants. ^ ^ 

^‘What girir^ asked Peace, with a curious sink- 
ing of heart. 

“They call her Peace — 

“That’s me. I thought ’twas. The d’scription 
seemed to fit so well. ’ ’ 

The stranger drew back aghast, then said bit- 
terly, ‘ ‘ I might have known it. ’ ’ 

“Don’t you like me?” pleaded the child, feeling 
that her companion had grown suddenly an- 
tagonistic. 

“I — I hate you!” 

“But — but — why?” stammered Peace, thunder- 
struck by this uncompromising declaration. 

“Because you have everything I need, and I 
can’t have anything.” 

“You have good legs,” Peace wistfully 
whispered. 

“And you have good hands,” her companion 
shot forth. 

“Hands!” Peace all at once became aware of 
the bandages which hid that other pair of hands 
from sight. “Wh — ^hat’s the matter with yours? 
Did you hurt them? Have you got anyf* 

“Apologies!” Her voice was harsh with in- 
tense bitterness, her eyes were dull with despair. 

“Apologies?” Peace failed to understand. 

“They are useless. I burned them,” explained 
the other hopelessly. 

“But won’t they ever be any good?” Peace 
persisted, her eyes wide with horror. 


HEART OP GOLD 


189 


*‘No, I can never write again/’ 

‘^Write?” 

“I write stories for a living. It’s all I can do 
when I have to stay at home with Mother and 
Benny. And now — God ! what is there left for me 
to do?” 

^‘You swore.” 

“I did not.” 

‘‘Then maybe you prayed. Was it a prayer?” 

“I can’t pray. It’s useless to pray. Those two 
hands brought in my bread and butter, — the bread 
and butter for us three. And now they are hope- 
lessly crippled. What can I pray for?” 

“Your bread and butter.” 

“Pshaw!” The girl laughed derisively, then 
broke off abruptly. “You don’t understand,” 
she said in lifeless tones. 

“No,” Peace agreed, “p’r’aps I don’t. ’Twas 
my feet. How did you come to burn your hands? ’ ’ 

“Benny upset a lamp, and — I had to put out 
the fire. He can’t run, either. He is a cripple.” 

“Oh!” the voice was sharp with distress, and 
in spite of herself, the older girl’s face softened. 
“You — you care?” she whispered. 

‘ ‘ Of course I care, ’ ’ cried Peace warmly. ‘ ‘ Poor 
little Benny! He is little, ain’t he? He sounds 
little. Can’t you have him cured?” 

“Perhaps, if there was any money to pay the 
bills. But so far, it has taken every cent I could 
earn to keep us in food and clothes. I had hoped 
my book would be successful and that the royal- 
ties would be enough to take care of us, so the 


190 


HEART OP GOLD 


short story money could pay for an operation. 
But now I can never finish the book.’^ 

‘‘Can^t you get a typewriter? You could use 
one of those, couldn’t you? Grandpa has one for 
his work at home, and he thumps it with only one 
finger on each hand. ’ ’ 

‘^Do you know how much a typewriter costs?” 
she asked. 

‘‘No. Very much?” 

“More than I could ever spend for one.” 

“And there’s no one else to help?” 

“No one. My father is dead. Benny’s mother, 
— ^my sister, — ^is dead. Her husband is a drunken 
sot. We turned him out long ago. It was he who 
crippled Benny. Poor little Benny! He’s only 
three, and he will never have a chance with the 
other boys and girls.” 

“I’ve got five dollars,” Peace shyly confided. 
“It’s all my own to do as I please with. I want 
you to take it. Will it buy a typewriter?” 

“0, my, no! They cost heaps of money, — a 
hundred dollars for a brand new one of the kind I 
want. But — ^but it’s real dear of you to offer me 
your money. I can’t take it, child. I’m not a 
beggar. ’ ’ 

“We weren’t beggars in Parker, either; but it 
came in mighty handy sometimes to have folks 
give us things. Course we always tried to earn 
them if we could, and if you want to earn this 
money, you might write me five dollars’ worth of 
stories. Oh, I forgot!” She glanced hastily at 
the crippled hands, then averted her eyes. “Truly 


HEART OF GOLD 


191 


I did. But you needn be snippy about my money. 
I know what ’tis to be poor. ’ ’ 

. “You! Why, your grandfather is President of 
the State University, Miss Pierson says.’^ 

“That’s my make-believe grandfather. My 
truly real one has been dead for ages. Then papa 
died, and fin’ly mother, which left us to dig for 
ourselves. We were worse off than you, ’cause 
there were six of us and not one knew how to write 
stories for money. I ^ess we’d all have starved 
to death or gone to the poor farm if Grandpa 
hadn’t come along just about that time.” Before 
Peace was aware of it, she had poured out the 
whole history of the little brown house in Parker, 
while the other crippled girl listened spellbound. 

“What a plot for a book!” she sighed ecstatic- 
ally when the narrator had finished. “And what 
a picture for one of the characters!” She fell to 
studying Peace with a new interest in her heart. 

“O, do you mean to write us up in a book!” 
cried Peace, fascinated with the idea. “That’s 
what Gail has always threatened to do, but I don ’t 
expect she ever really will. Wouldn’t it be splen- 
did to have a story written all about ourselves! 
What shall you call it! Will you let me know 
when it is done so I can read it and see what kind 
of stuff you write!” 

But a shadow had fallen across her companion’s 
face, so bright and animated a moment before, 
and again she glanced involuntarily at the band- 
aged hands which both in their eagerness had for- 
gotten. But before either could speak, there was 


192 


HEART OP GOLD 


a rustling sound of stiffly starched skirts behind 
them, and Miss Keith, from the floor below, 
stepped around the corner. 

“Why, Peace Greenfieldl^’ she exclaimed at 
sight of them. “What a start you gave us! 
Don’t you know you must never leave your own 
floor without permission? If the elevator boy 
hadn’t put us wise, we probably would be ’phon- 
ing to the police by this time. Come downstairs 
now. Your sister is waiting for you in your 
room. ’ ’ 

So Peace departed, but not until she trundled 
through the doorway of her room did she remem- 
ber that the stranger had not told her name. 

“0, dear,” she greeted Gail. “I do show the 
least sense of anyone I know. ’ ’ 

“What seems to be the matter?” asked the big 
sister, amused at the look of disgust on the small, 
thin face. 

“I’ve just been gabbing with a real author lady, 
who has burned her hands ’most off, so she can’t 
write any more, and I forgot to ask her name. ’ ’ 

“Why, what are you talking about?” inquired 
Gail, amazed at the unexpected answer. 

“The author lady I just found crying in a comer 
upstairs because she can’t write stories any more. 
That’s the way she’s been earning the bread and 
butter for her family, and she don’t know what 
will happen to them now. I thought maybe a 
typewriter would do the work, but she says it costs 
a hundred dollars to buy the kind she wants, and 
she wouldn’t take my five. There’s a baby boy, 


HEART OF GOLD 


193 


too, who can never walk unless there is an oper- 
ation and of course it takes slathers of money for 
that/’ 

‘‘Whose baby boy are you interested in now!” 
asked a deep bass voice from the doorway, and 
Peace whirled about to confront young Dr. Shum- 
way just entering the room. 

“His name is Benny, and he belongs to the little 
author lady upstairs' who got burned ’most to 
death trying to put out the lamp which he tipped 
over. His mother is dead, and the little author 
lady has to take care of him and her own mother. I 
plumb forgot to ask what her name is, but I ’mem- 
ber now that she called her nurse Miss Piercing.” 

“Oh!” Dr. Shumway seemed more enlightened 
with that scrap of information than with all the 
rest of the story, and he stood stroking his chin 
thoughtfully, as he gazed absently at Gail seated 
by the window. 

“Do you know her?” asked the small patient 
when he made no further comment. 

“I know whom you mean,” he answered slowly. 
“But she is not my patient. Dr. Rosencrans has 
that case. Where did you find out about her?” 

Peace again recounted the history of her recent 
adventure, and the story lost nothing in its telling, 
for the child was profoundly impressed, and she 
had the knack of making her listeners feel with 
her. 

“I recall now,” he said, turning to Gail when 
the tale was ended, “there was some talk of am- 
putating the hands at first, — they were so dread- 


194 


HEART OF GOLD 


fully burned, — ^but the little lady would not permit 
it. She has suffered tortures with them, but I un- 
derstand that they are healing nicely now, though 
they will probably always be crippled, and many 
months must elapse before she can use them again. 
She is a game little woman, but very close- 
mouthed, — almost morose. She seemed simply 
overwhelmed by her catastrophe and none of the 
staff could get anything out of her.^' He glanced 
significantly down at Peace, but she was appar- 
ently unconscious of what she had accomplished, 
and the conversation turned to other channels. 

There was a very homesick little girl in one of 
the rooms across the hallway, who had done noth- 
ing but cry since the ambulance had brought her 
to the hospital, and the doctor wanted Peace to 
make her a little visit. So for the next few days 
the brown-haired elf was so absorbed in this new 
task of cheering unhappy Gertrude that she had 
little time to think of the author lady on the floor 
above; and Gail was not prepared for the tragic 
face that greeted her when she made her usual call 
at Peace’s room one day about a week later. 

‘‘Why, what has happened!” demanded the 
older sister, glancing about her in alarm. 

“Miss Wayne’s gone away without ever saying 
good-bye to me,” gulped the child in grieved ac- 
cents. “Her patient with the fractious hip died 
and she had a case somewhere in the country 
which she had to go to, but she never told me a 
word about it. I didn’t think she was that kind. 
I liked her so much, and now — ” 


HEART OF GOLD 


195 


‘‘But, Peace, interrupted Gail tenderly, “she 
came to say good-bye last evening and you were 
asleep. I had gone home and there was no time to 
write a note as she had planned to do, so she told 
Dick — er, I mean Dr. Shumway. But he forgot to 
deliver the message this morning when he came in 
to see you, and just now met me with the request 
that I tell you, with his apologies. Miss Wayne 
will be back here at ‘the hospital before you go 
home undoubtedly, for she is a very popular nurse, 
not only with her patients, but with the doctors 
who send their cases here for treatment. So you 
mustn’t fret. She did not forget, — she never 
can, — for I am sure she loves you dearly, and if 
you had been awake she would have said good-bye 
in person.” 

“Well, I’m glad of that,” said Peace, much 
mollified at the explanation. “But anyway, my 
author lady is gone, and I don’t even know her 
name. ’ ’ 

“Yes,” answered Gail brightly, “the little 
author lady has gone home, but Benny is here.” 

“Benny?” 

‘ ‘ The crippled baby she told you about. Surely 
you remember. ’ ’ 

“Course I remember. But how did he get here 
when there wasn’t any money?” 

“Die — Dr. Shumway investigated the case, and 
found it was even more pitiful than the little 
author lady had pictured it ; so he persuaded them 
to let him operate on the baby for nothing, and he 
thinks Benny’s little crooked back can be made 


196 


HEART OP GOLD 


entirely well. He left some medicine for the poor, 
patient invalid mother, and she is going to get 
better, too. Isn^t it all lovely?’^ 

Peace ^s brown eyes were shining like stars, but 
all she said was, ‘ ‘ What did he do with the author 
ladyT^ 

‘‘O, that came out beautifully, too. Dick — er. 
Dr. Shumway told Dr. Rosencrans her story in the 
office downstairs, and it happened there was a real 
rich author lady there waiting for her automobile 
to come and take her home. Her name is Mrs. 
Selwyn, and she has been very sick, too, and must 
not try to write any more for a long time yet. But 
she became so interested in this poor little Miss 
Garland, that she insisted upon having her taken 
to her big, beautiful house for a few weeks. Mrs. 
Selwyn employs a secretary to do much of her 
typewriting, and this secretary is now to help Miss 
Garland get her book finished, so it can go to the 
publishers as soon as possible.’^ 

‘‘Is Miss Garland my author lady^’ 

“Yes, dear.’’ 

“Then she won’t need a typewriter herself 
now.” 

‘ ‘ 0, yes, for this arrangement is only for a little 
while, — until Mrs. Selwyn is well again. So some 
of us, — Dr. Rosencrans, Dr. Race, Dr. Shumway, 
Dr. Crandall, Miss Pierson, Miss Wayne, and oh, a 
whole bunch of nurses and friends, got up a col- 
lection and bought her a splendid new machine 
like she wanted, and when she goes home she will 
find it waiting for her. ’ ’ 


HEART OF GOLD 


197 


‘^Doesn’t she know?’’ 

‘‘Not a whisper. It’s always to be a secret who 
gave it to her. We feared that she might feel as 
if we thought she had been begging, if she knew 
the names of the senders, — she is so extremely 
sensitive. So we just tied a card to the case, and 
wrote on it, ‘From your loving friends.’ ” 

“That’s reg’lar splendid, and I want my five 
dollars to help pay for it, too.” 

“But, Peace, — ” Gail began. 

‘ ‘ There ain ’t any ‘ but ’ to it, ’ ’ declared the small 
sister with determination. “I was the one who 
found her, and I mean to help. ’ ’ 

“Very well,” sighed Gail, studying the stubborn 
little chin and knowing that Peace would gain her 
point in some way, even if denied the privilege of 
contributing her one gold piece. “You surely did 
set the ball rolling, for Mrs. Selwyn says your 
little author lady will make her mark in the world 
before many years. ’ ’ 

“Yes, I guess she will make a mark on the 
world, too, ’ ’ Peace agreed complacently, ‘ ‘ for now 
Benny’s going to be like other children, and the 
mother won’t be so sick any more. Doesn’t every- 
thing end just splendid?” 

“Yes, my darling,” whispered Gail to herself, 
“when you are around.” 





i 


CHAPTER XIV 


KETURAH AND BILLY BOLEE 

“Well, Kitty, I am awful sorry, but it canT be 
helped now. It won T take me more than half an 
hour or so in all probability, but will you care to 
wait for me?^^ 

Peace, dozing in her wheel-chair in a little, 
sheltered niche at the end of the corridor, awoke 
with a start. Was that Dr. Dick speaking, or had 
those words been part of a dream? 

Another voice, unfamiliar to her, and sounding 
weary, indifferent and pathetically mournful, an- 
swered, ‘ ‘ Tomorrow will be the same. ^ ’ 

“Yes,’' Dr. Shumway laughed apologetically, 
‘ ‘ I suppose it will. Physicians can hardly claim a 
minute of their time for themselves.” 

‘ ‘ Then I might as well wait for you now. ’ ’ 

“Very well. Shall I send you down to the 
Library in the auto, — or to one of the stores? Or 
will you stay here? I’m afraid you won’t find 
much to amuse yourself with in this place.” 

“Nevertheless I’ll stay,” answered the world- 
weary voice again. “But please hurry. I don’t 
like the smell of lysol and ether.” 

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. Kit. You’ll find 
a pretty view from that bay window if you care to 
look at our scenery.” The busy doctor was gone, 

199 


200 


HEART OF GOLD 


and the black-clad figure, left to her own devices 
for the next thirty minutes, turned with a heavy 
sigh toward the window her companion had indi- 
cated, but paused at sight of a bright, alert little 
face, peeping around the back of an invalid’s chair 
which she had not noticed before. 

The rosy lips parted in a smile, and before the 
startled woman could regain her composure, the 
child spoke. ‘‘So this is Catarrhar, is it! ” 

“My name is Mrs. Wood,” answered the 
woman, dumbfounded by her salutation. 

“But your first name?” persisted the brown- 
eyed sprite. 

“What does it matter?” The woman’s voice 
was cold and crisp. 

“Aren’t you Dr. Dick’s sister?” 

“Dr. Dickson Shumway is my brother, if that 
is what you mean.” 

“I thought so. Well, he’s got better manners 
than you have.” 

The woman gasped. Who in the world was this 
frank, friendly creature? No one had ever dared 
to speak like that to her before. Flushed with 
anger, she turned to seek another retreat, but 
Peace forestalled her. “Your father said you 
weren’t as homely as he is, and that’s so. You’d 
be real pretty if you just looked a little more 
human. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Human ! ’ ’ The exclamation burst from her in- 
voluntarily, as the woman sank limply into the 
nearest chair and stared in utter surprise at her 
tormentor. 


HEAKT OF GOLD 


201 


“Yes. You look so scowly and — and — oh, so 
frosty. I like warm faces that smile and look 
happy, like Dr. Dick^s, you know. Your sister 
Penelope has the smile hut not the good looks. 
Pansy has neither, but I don’t blame her. Having 
such a name and being so fat is enough to make 
anyone cross. Her waist tapers in the wrong di- 
rection. IVe never seen Carrie, so I don’t know 
what she is like. But you — ” 

“Who — who are you?” the black-clad figure 
found voice to stammer. 

“Me? I’m Peace — ” 

“Seems to me that name doesn’t fit very well, 
either,” said the other sarcastically, for Peace’s 
candid criticisms had wounded her pride. 

“It’s perfectly awful, ain’t it?” Peace serenely 
admitted. “But though I can’t help my name, I 
I can help being ugly about it. There ’s nothing at 
all peaceful about me, I know. Grandma says she 
thinks I must be strung on wires, for I can! t keep 
still. There’s always a commotion when I’m 
around. I’ve tried and tried to be sweet and quiet 
like Gail and Hope and Allee, but it’s no use. So 
now I just try to be happy and cheerful. That 
doesn’t always work, either. Sometimes I get in 
an awful stew about having to sit in a chair day 
after day, but then I ’member what my Lilac Lady 
wrote, and I try to be good again.” 

“Your Lilac Lady?” 

“She was lame like me,” the child explained, 
and promptly regaled her visitor with the history 
of the dear friend who had slipped out from her 


202 


HEART OF GOLD 


prison house of pain not two years before, while 
the icy Mrs. Wood sat listening with real interest 
in her heart. 

When the tale was ended, the woman whis- 
pered, ^‘And now you — 

“Yes,^’ interrupted the child calmly. 
thought for a while I^d be like her, but Dr. Dick 
says before many more weeks he thinks I may be 
strong enough to try crutches. You see, my legs 
didn^t use to have any life in ’em. I could stick 
’em with pins and never feel it, but I can ’t do that 
now. They feel just like they did before I was 
hurt, but they are too weak yet to hold me up. I 
tried it one day just after Miss Wayne left, and 
I slumped right flat on the floor. I was scared for 
fear I’d have to call Miss Keith to help me onto 
the couch, and then she would scold; but after I 
rested a bit, I lifted myself easyJ^ 

‘‘What would the doctor say if he knew you 
did that?” 

“O, he knows. I told him. He never scolds. 
He just said that I mustn’t do it again until he let 
me himself, and I haven’t. He’s an awful nice 
doctor. He’s always playing jokes, ain’t he? 
When I first woke up from the antiseptic, I wanted 
a drink awfully bad, but Miss Wayne wouldn’t 
let me have a drop of cold water; so when he came 
in to see me, I asked him for just a swallow, and 
what do you s’pose he did?” 

“I don’t know,” murmured her companion, still 
interested in the small patient’s prattle in spite 
of herself. 


HEART OF GOLD 


203 


‘‘Well, he wrote in big letters on a card, ‘When 
you want a drink, remember there is a spring in 
your bed. ’ And then he hitched it to the foot-rail 
where I couldn’t help seeing it every time I looked 
that way. Wasn’t that hateful? Of course it 
made me laugh, and it did help me think of some- 
thing else when I was so thirsty that it seemed 
as if I’d dry up if they didn’t give me a teenty 
drink. He knows how to make sick folks well.” 

“He couldn’t make my baby well,” the woman 
blurted out with such bitterness that Peace re- 
coiled, shocked. 

“I’ll bet he could have, if anyone could,” she 
declared staunchly after her first start of surprise. 

“Yes, I suppose so. That is what Ed said,” 
answered the bereft mother more quietly. 

“Is Ed your husband?” 

“Yes.” 

“I thought he was dead!” 

“ Ed ? Why, no ! What put that idea into your 
head?” 

“You are all rigged out in black — ” 

“My baby is dead.” 

“So is Elspeth’s, but she never wears black. 
St. John likes to see her in blue, so she wears that 
color lots. It just matches her eyes. St. John is 
a perfectly good husband — ” 

“So is Ed,” interrupted Mrs. Wood, with a 
passion that surprised her. “No one can say one 
word against Ed. He is as good as gold.” 

“Doe^ he like black on you?” 

“Why — er — I don’t know.” 


204 


HEART OP GOLD 


‘ ^ I never saw a man yet that did, ^ ’ Peace com- 
mented sagely. ‘ ‘ Grandpa has fits when Grandma 
gets into an all-black rig. He says it looks too 
gloomy. That^s what St. John and Elspeth think, 
too, so she never wears it. ^ ’ 

‘‘Who are they?’^ asked Mrs. Wood, for want 
of anything else to say, because the child’s criti- 
cism of her attire had sharply reminded her of her 
own husband’s frank disapproval. 

“St. John was our minister in Parker, but now 
he has the Hill Street Church in Martindale, where 
I live. Elspeth is his wife. They let me name their 
twins, but the Tiniest One died before I could find 
a pretty enough name for it. ’ ’ 

“Ah! She still has something to live for. No 
wonder she can dress in blue. She didn’t lose her 
only child.” 

“ ’Twouldn’t have made any difference if she 
had lost her whole family,” Peace replied, un- 
consciously pushing the sharp arrow deeper and 
deeper into her unwilling visitor’s heart. “She’d 
have gone to work and adopted some to raise. 
That’s what Grandpa and Grandma did.” 

“I thought you said your grandfather was 
President of the State University. ’ ’ 

“I did. But he ain’t our real grandfather. His 
only two children died when they were little, and 
’cause my own Grandpa had adopted him when 
they were boys. Grandpa Campbell adopted the 
whole kit of us when he found out who we were 
and that we were orphants. There are six of us, 
but he said he’d have taken the whole bunch if 


HEART OF GOLD 


205 


there ’d been a dozen. That’s the kind of a fellow 
he is, and Elspeth is jnst like him. Why don’t 
you adopt a baby I” 

^ ‘ Why — why — why — ’ ’ 

“Would Ed kick?” 

“No, Ed never kicks. He lets me do anything I 
please. ’ ’ 

Mrs. Wood, with a curious, baffled feeling in her 
heart, wondered why she sat there listening to a 
spoiled child’s silly chatter when every word 
stung her to the quick, and yet she made no effort 
to change her position. 

“Well, if my husband would let me adopt a 
baby, I tell you it wouldn’t take me long to find 
one. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Y our husband ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, s ’posing I had one.” 

“You are but a child. You don’t know what 
you are talking about. You cannot understand. 
An adopted baby never can fill the place of one’s 
own lost one.” 

“How do you know? You never did it, either. 
Babies are such cunning things. No one can help 
loving them if they’ve got any kind of a heart. 
There is poor little Billy Bolee. He is just as 
pretty as he can be, but he ’s lame. Dr. Dick says 
one leg will always be shorter than the other, and 
he hasn’t anyone to take care of him now, nor any 
home to go to. His mother was killed in a rail- 
road accident. They are going to ship him off to 
the orphant asylum next week. Miss Keith says. If 
he was only a girl. Aunt Pen would take him to 


206 


HEART OP GOLD 


raise, but they Ve decided not to have any boys at 
Oak Knoll. Guiseppe and Rivers were the only 
ones ever there, and now Rivers’ mother can take 
him again, and Aunt Pen has sent Guiseppe across 
the ocean to study music. ’P I was bigger I’d 
adopt Billy myself. I just love babies. When I 
grow up I’m going to be mother of forty girls, 
like Aunt Pen is.” 

Amused, shocked, scandalized, the young woman 
in black listened to the strange prattle of the child, 
who spoke as she thought; but when the busy 
tongue momentarily ceased its chatter, and Peace 
sat gazing thoughtfully out across the green fields 
where already the grain grew thick and tall, Mrs. 
Wood timidly ventured the question, “How old 
is Billy Bolee?” 

“0, he’s a little fellow. Dr. Dick says he 
prob’ly wasn’t more’n two years old when he first 
came to the hospital, but he has been here as much 
as six months now. He couldn ’t talk American at 
first, and Dr. Kruger had to tell the nurses what 
he said. But even Dr. Kruger couldn ’t understand 
what his name was, so they took to calling him 
Billy Bolee. He’s Dutch, you know. They let 
him run all around the place now, and he is the 
dearest little fellow!” 

“Where is he now?” 

“0, 1 expect he’s in the office. Miss Murch tries 
to keep him there as much as she can, so’s they 
will know where he is, I guess. Sometimes he 
gets pretty noisy and the sick folks don’t like to 
have him running up and down the halls.” 


HEART OP GOLD 


207 


‘‘By tlie way, I meant to have spoken to Miss 
Murch about some supplies our Aid Society wants 
to purchase for the hospital. I think V\\ just slip 
downstairs now and attend to it while I am wait- 
ing for Dickson. If he comes before I get back, tell 
him that I am in the office. ’ ^ Almost before Peace 
realized it, she was gone, and the invalid was left 
to her own devices once more. 

When the busy doctor, detained longer than he 
had expected to be, returned for his sister, she 
was nowhere in sight, and Peace lay fast asleep in 
her wheel-chair by the window. 

“Guess Kit got tired of waiting for me and 
went home,’’ he mused. So he hurried down the 
stairway and was about to step out of the great 
front doors, when a familiar, ringing laugh from 
the office close by made him pause and open his 
eyes in wonder, as he ejaculated under his breath, 
“If that isn’t Kit, I’ll eat my hat!” 

Before he could retrace his steps, however, a 
flushed, radiant figure flashed into the hallway, 
and Keturah — a rejuvenated Kit with a crimson 
carnation in her belt and another tucked in the 
coils of her glossy hair — exclaimed, “0, Dick, 
come see what this little rogue has done!” 

Then he noticed what had escaped his attention 
before, — she was leading little lame Billy Bolee by 
the hand. Puzzled, yet strangely relieved at the 
vision, the doctor followed her into the office, 
where she pointed at scores of little red and green 
patches plastered hit or miss on the smooth walls. 

“Why, what — ?” he began. 


208 


HEART OF GOLD 


‘‘See what they are?^’ asked the amused sister. 

He looked more closely at the haphazard decora- 
tions, then exclaimed, “Postage stamps, Idl be 
bound ! ’ ’ 

“Yes. Five dollars’ worth,” laughed Keturah 
infectiously. “And the worst of it is, most of 
them will have to be soaked olf with water. Billy 
Bolee did his job well. Do you suppose the muci- 
lage will make him sick? By the way, Dickson, I 
am going to take Billy home with me. It won’t 
be too cool in the auto for him without any wraps, 
will it? He has nothing but a heavy winter coat, 
and he will roast in that.” 

Slowly the doctor turned and looked search- 
ingly at his sister. She flushed under his gaze, 
but did not flinch. 

“I have been talking to Dr. Kruger,” she said, 
as if in answer to his unspoken question, “and 
he thinks there will be no difiiculty about our 
securing adoption papers, — if we decide to keep 
him.” 

“But, Kit,” stammered the mystified man, 
“how — why — what?” 

“0,” she laughed a little sheepishly, “that 
rude, out-spoken creature in the wheel-chair by 
the window where you left me told me that I ought 
to adopt him, and I’m not sure but that she is 
right. ’ ’ 

“She is not rude,” the doctor suddenly contra- 
dicted, a vision of the brown-eyed idol of the hos- 
pital flashing up before him. ‘ ‘ She merely be- 
lieves in voicing her thoughts; but she is the es- 


HEART OF GOLD 


209 


sence of compassion and love. She would not want 
to wound another’s feelings for anything in the 
world.” 

‘‘Well, anyway, she certainly can wake folks 
up,” the woman insisted. 

“Thank God for that,” said the man under his 
breath, and leaving the nurses to rescue what of 
the luckless postage stamps they could, he con- 
ducted Keturah and happy little Billy Bolee to 
his car, waiting at the curb. 


CHAPTER XV 


THE RING THAT BUILT A HOSPITAL 

It was a hot June night. Not a breath of air 
was stirring, and in the great Danbury Hospital 
every window was opened its widest. Yet the 
patients lay panting and sweltering on their cots. 
Peace, in her room, tossed and turned restlessly, 
dozed a few minutes, then wakened, changed her 
position, trying to find a cooler spot, and finally in 
desperation, raised her hand and jerked the bell- 
cord dangling at the head of her bed. She could 
hear the answering whir in the hall outside, but 
no one came to minister to her wants, and after an 
impatient wait of a few seconds, she repeated the 
summons. 

Still no one came. 

‘^What in creation can be the matter with Miss 
Hays, I wonder,’’ she muttered, and savagely 
pulled the cord for the third time. 

There was a faint patter of rapid steps through 
the corridor, and the night nurse, flushed and per- 
spiring, flew into the room. ‘‘What is it?” she 
asked crisply, mopping her warm face after a 
hasty survey of the small patient. 

“0,” exclaimed Peace in relief. “It’s you at 
last! I thought you were never coming. Is it hot 
outside tonight, or is it just me that’s hot?” 


211 


212 


HEART OF GOLD 


Poor, hurried, steaming Miss Hays glared down 
at the tumbled figure on the bed, and snapped, 
‘ Ht ’s that ^s hot ! Did you chase me clear down 
two flights of stairs just to ask that question?’’ 

‘‘You look warm,” said Peace in conciliatory 
tones, not quite understanding the cause of Miss 
Hays ’ evident wrath. 

“I warm, — decidedly warm under the col- 

lar!” Suddenly the funny side of the situation 
burst upon her, and she laughed hysterically. It 
was utterly ridiculous to think of the haste she 
had made to answer the frantic summons of that 
bell! 

Then, with an effort she controlled her merri- 
ment, and asked soberly, “Was there anything 
you wanted?” 

“No — that is — Hark! What is that noise? It 
sounds like a little baby crying. That’s the third 
time tonight I’ve heard it squall.” 

Miss Hays obediently strained her ears to listen. 
“It does sound like a child, doesn’t it?” she ad- 
mitted, as the plaintive wail was repeated. “Who 
can it be?” 

“Seems as if it came from the other part of the 
building,” said Peace, peering across the moonlit 
court toward the windows of the opposite wing. 

“But there are no babies over there,” the nurse 
objected. ‘ ‘ Nearly all the patients in that section 
are old men, and the nurses’ rooms are on the top 
floor. ’ ’ 

“Well, that’s where the crying comes from any- 
way,” Peace insisted, as another low, persistent 


HEART OF GOLD 


213 


wail rose on the midnight air. ^^Are you sure 
there ain ^t any babies over there ? ^ ’ 

“None that I know of. I’ll go investigate. It’s 
queer that Miss Gee did not mention it to me if 
any new patients were brought in there today.” 

Puzzled Miss Hays turned to go when Peace 
stopped her with an imperative, “Wait! There’s 
a nightcap sticking out of a topfloor window. I 
guess it’s going to holler.” 

“Nightcap! Where!” demanded the nurse, 
again staring out over the court toward the other 
wing of the hospital. 

“It looked like one, but it’s gone in out of sight. 
O, I know I saw it. There ! What did I tell you ! ’ ’ 

Peace was right. From an open window in the 
nurses’ quarters a white-capped head slowly pro- 
truded, followed by a huge pitcher. There was a 
sound of splashing water, a startled caterwaul 
from the lawn below, some excited spitting and 
scratching, and two black shapes streaked across 
the court to the street. The wailing ceased. 
Silence reigned. 

“Cats!” exclaimed Miss Hays in disgust. 

“Making that crying noise!” demanded in- 
credulous Peace. 

“Yes.” 

“Not babies at all!” 

“No.” 

“Well, I’ll — Say, that water splashed in through 
the window of the room below. Listen to that 
man — swear ! He ’s saying dreadful things ! Can ’t 
you hear him!” 


214 


HEART OF GOLD 


must go/’ the nurse ejaculated, when a swift 
survey of the windows opposite had proved that 
the child’s observations were correct; but even as 
she darted through the doorway, the buzzer in the 
hall whirred viciously, and Peace heard her mut- 
ter, ‘‘My sakes! but the old gentleman is mad!” 

Once more quiet descended over the great build- 
ing, and for a long time Peace lay chuckling over 
the night’s unusual adventure. Then in spite of 
the heat she at length fell asleep. Nor did she 
waken until the sun was high in the sky and the 
bustle of the busy city floated up through the open 
window. 

The first thing she was conscious of was the 
sound of Dr. Shumway’s voice sharp with bitter 
disappointment, and by craning her neck almost 
to breaking point, she could catch a glimpse of 
his coat-tails through the open door, as he said to 
some invisible audience, “No, we can hope for 
absolutely nothing from that source now, and we 
do need that addition so badly. Why, man alivef 
it would mean a chance for hundreds of helpless 
babies. We simply haven’t the room to accept 
charity cases now. Every bed in the institution 
filled this morning! What a record! But we have 
had to turn away ten cases this past month 
because we were too crowded to take charity 
patients. ’ ’ 

“What did the old codger have to say to the 
committee?” asked another voice, which Peace 
recognized as that of Dr. Race, though she could 
not see him. 


HEART OP GOLD 


215 


‘‘He wasn’t even decent about it. Said if his 
father had seen fit to spend half his fortune erect- 
ing this hospital, it was no sign that he intended to 
follow his example. What is more, he declared 
that we never would see another red cent of Dan- 
bury money if he could help it. Called his father 
an old fool and every other uncomplimentary 
name he could think of.” 

“Did you remind him that his father had in- 
tended to build this addition that we are so 
anxious fori” 

“Yes, and got laughed at for my pains. If only 
old John Danbury could have lived to see his 
building completed! He used to say he cared for 
no other monument than Danbury Hospital.” 

“Do you know,” said a new voice thoughtfully, 
“I think he recognized the worthlessness of his 
profligate son, and planned to sink his whole for- 
tune in this institution I Money has been the curse 
of Robson Danbury’s life, and his father knew 
that the only hope of making anything like a man 
out of him was the cutting him off without a cent, 
but the Death Angel claimed him before he had 
finished his plans.” 

“Well, that doesn’t help us out of our predica- 
ment,” said Dr. Race in his crisp, curt tones. 
“How are we to get our addition built?” 

“Go to the Church for it, — that’s our only 
course now,” suggested Dr. Shumway resignedly. 

“The Church! Good gracious, man! The 
church is bled to death now with its collections for 
this and subscriptions for that,” declared Dr. 


216 


HEART OP GOLD 


Rosencrans impatiently. ‘‘They wonT listen to 
our cry for help. I’m sorry this hospital is a de- 
nominational institution. It is a serious 
handicap. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ It ought not to be, ’ ’ said Dr. Shumway stoutly. 
“Our people should be proud of the chance to 
give to such a cause.” 

“But the fact still remains that they raise a 
howl or have a fit every time they are asked for 
a copper,” returned Dr. Rosencrans pessimistic- 
ally. 

“Well, what are you going to do about it?” de- 
manded Dr. Race briskly. ‘ ‘ Got anything tangible 
to work upon ? ’ ’ 

“I happen to know that the bishop will give us 
his heartiest co-operation,” Dr. Shumway an- 
swered. “We must confer with him and plan a 
state-wide campaign. We’ve simply got to have 
that addition.” 

“Then it’s to be the same old song and dance?” 
inquired Dr. Rosencrans in deep disgust. “We’ll 
send out a professional beggar to the different 
churches of the state, and then sit back and wait 
for the money to roll in?” 

“What is your plan?” quietly asked Dr. Shum- 
way, but in such a tone that Peace, straining to 
catch every word, fairly jumped from her cot, and 
wondered whether there was to be a fight. 

“I have none,” was the sulky reply, “but I’m 
tired of this lemon- squeezing farce. We can never 
raise a thousand dollars, let alone seventy-five 
thousand. ’ ’ 


HEAET OF GOLD 


217 


“I suggest that we take twenty-four hours to 
think on this thing before we make any decisions,’’ 
suggested Dr. Race in soothing tones. “It is too 
important a question to settle without considerable 
thought.” 

‘ ‘ Good idea, ’ ’ seconded another voice, and after 
a brief parley as to their next meeting, the group 
of physicians just outside Peace’s door dispersed 
about their various duties. 

But they had left the brown-eyed maid much 
food for thought. Some of their conversation had 
puzzled her, but she gathered from their remarks 
that an addition to the hospital had become neces- 
sary, and for some reason seemed unobtainable, 
except by appealing to the churches for the 
money to build, which the doctors seemed loath 
to do. 

“I’ll ask Gail, she’ll know,” Peace promised 
herself, when she found that she could not un- 
tangle the puzzling questions without further 
explanation. 

So when Gail entered the white room that after- 
noon, the small sister was ready with an avalanche 
of queries. “Why ain’t the hospital big enough 
as ’tis? What do they need an edition for! Why 
won’t Robinson Danbury give them any money, 
and why do they think he ought to? What’s the 
matter with the churches and how do they bleed 
to death?” 

Gail stopped short in her tracks. “Why, 
girlie ! ’ ’ she cried apprehensively, noting the 
scarlet flush on the thin cheeks, “what do you 


218 


HEART OF GOLD 


mean? What is the matter? Have you been 
dreaming? What are you talking about ?^’ 

So Peace told her of the conference held that 
morning just outside her door, and Gail listened 
attentively, surprised that the small maid should 
display such interest in a question supposed to 
concern only her elders. 

‘‘What’s all the fuss about?” Peace asked a 
second time before Gail could decide whether or 
not it would be advisable to try to explain. 

“Well,” she said at length, “it happens that 
this is the only hospital in the state which belongs 
to our church, — that is, to our denomination, you 
understand. A man by the name of John Danbury 
planned and built it with his own money, and gave 
it to the church with the understanding that it was 
to be supported by our people. His plan was to 
have the hospital take only poor patients, but even 
with the church’s help they couldn’t anywhere 
nearly pay their way when they did that, and they 
have had to accept pay patients almost entirely. 
So rather than give up this pet idea of his, 
Mr. Danbury decided to build an addition just for 
charity cases. But he died without a will, — that 
is, without anything to show how he wanted his 
money spent, and his son, Robson, got it all. The 
son was hurt in a railroad accident about a month 
ago, and was brought here to be treated. Up to 
that time, he had absolutely refused to give the 
Hospital Board a dollar toward carrying out his 
father’s wishes, although he himself knew what 
the plans had been. But while he was here, he 


HEART OF GOLD 


219 


sort of changed his mind. I suppose he had never 
before realized how many people a hospital 
reaches; and he hinted that perhaps after all he 
might do a little to help the Board build its ad- 
dition. The committee was to visit him this morn- 
ing and get his definite answer, but last night 
some cats got to squalling in the court under his 
window, and — 

know,’^ Peace interrupted. ‘‘It sounded 
like a baby. I started Miss Hays off to find out 
who it was.’’ 

“Well, it bothered the nurses who were off duty, 
too, and finally Miss Gee could stand it no longer, 
so she deluged the cats with a pitcher of water, — ” 

“Yes, and some of it landed on the sill just 
under her window, and spattered a sick man in- 
side. Mercy! how he swore!” 

“And that sick man was Robson Danbury.” 

“Goodness gracious!” gasped Peace. “No 
wonder he won’t build any more hospital.” 

“It is such a pity to act so childish about it.” 

“I s’pose it does seem so to everyone else, but 
just s ’posing you had got settled comfortable on 
a boiling hot night, and someone spilled water all 
over you. How would you like it?” 

“But it was purely an accident. Peace.” 

“Accidents don’t always make a fellow feel 
nice,” the child asserted. “And the committee 
oughtn ’t to have visited him just after he got half 
drowned. They might have known he’d be ugly.” 

“They knew nothing whatever of the accident 
until he told them. It seems that even Miss Gee 


220 


HEART OF GOLD 


herself did not realize that anything but the cats 
had been soaked. He was so angry that he re- 
fused to stay here any longer, and as soon as he 
could get his clothes on, the ambulance took him 
home. It is such a shame, for the hospital does 
need more room so badly, and now — ” 

‘‘’FI was the hospital, I’d just show him that I 
could build all the rooms I wanted to without any 
of his old money.” 

“0, they intend to try to raise seventy-five 
thousand dollars by subscriptions from the 
churches. That was decided today. But it will 
be a hard job.” 

“Who’s going to do it?” 

“Do what?” 

“Why, the work, of course. You said it would 
be a hard job.” 

“0, they mean to open the campaign next Sun- 
day in Martindale, and the bishop is to preach the 
first sermon. After that. Rev. Mr. Murdock will 
do most of the preaching. He is secretary of the 
Hospital Association, you know.” 

“Is the bishop to preach in our church?” 

“Yes.” 

“And take up a collection?” 

“A subscription one.” 

“And I won’t be there! Why couldn’t they 
wait till I got home?” 

‘ ‘ They must begin at once, dear, if they hope to 
raise such a great sum before Conference.” 

“What’s the difference between a collection and 
a perscriptionT^ 


HEART OF GOLD 


221 


‘‘^M^scription, child. Well — er — we take up col- 
lections every Sunday in our regular services, but 
a subscription gives the people a longer time to 
pay what they have promised. ’ ’ 

The conversation turned to other subjects, but 
had Gail only known it, the busy brain under the 
curly brown thatch was puzzling over ways and 
means of taking part in that important subscrip- 
tion when she was miles away and absolute- 
ly bankrupt. She had given her last mite to 
help purchase a typewriter for her little author 
lady. 

But while the nurse was making her ready for 
the night, a sudden thought came to her, and 
holding up the slender finger on which gleamed 
her birthday ring, one of her most prized posses- 
sions, she asked, ‘‘How much do rings cost. Miss 
Keith?’’ 

“Rings like yours?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, I’m not much of a judge of jewelry, but 
I should say that was worth maybe ten or fifteen 
dollars. That stone looks like a real ruby. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ ’Tis a real ruby, though ’tain ’t very big. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I never owned but one ring in my life, and that 
was a plain band. I don’t know anything about 
precious stones, but no doubt your ring cost a 
pretty penny.” 

When she had gone on to her next charge. Peace 
sat warily up in bed, snatched paper and pencil 
from the stand close iDy and scribbled a brief and 
hurried note, which read: 


222 


HEART OP GOLD 


“Deer Bishup, — I can^t be at church Sunday 
when you take up a subscription to build some 
more Danbury Hospittle, cause I am in the hos- 
pittle myself, and I have spent all my money. 
Nurse says my ruby ring which Grandpa gave me 
on my last birthday cost as much as 10 or 15 
dolars; so I am sending my ring for your collec- 
tion. You can sell it to some honest jueler and 
give the Money to the hospittle. It has been worn 
only a little while for my birthday was New Years, 
and IVe been in the hospittle ever since, so the 
ring is reely as good as new. I would sell it myself 
if I could get out but I can’t. 

Yours truly. 

Peace Greenfield.” 

When the bishop rose to face the select and 
fashionable audience in the South Avenue Church 
the following Sabbath Day, his heart misgave him. 
What message could he bring to this people which 
would open their hearts and pocketbooks to help 
in the Lord’s great work? He had prepared a most 
careful and elaborate sermon for the occasion, but 
as he stood looking down into that sea of critical 
faces before him, he realized that here was a 
people who needed a soul ’s awakening, and with a 
sudden determination he cast aside his scholarly 
efforts, and drawing from his pocket a hastily 
scrawled letter and a small, ruby ring, he told 
their simple story so beautifully and so well that 
purse-strings, as well as heart-strings, responded 
instantly, and the following day a telegram 


HEART OF GOLD 


223 


reached Danbury Hospital which read, ‘‘Fifteen 
thousand dollars subscribed at South Avenue 
Church. Thank God for our ‘ Peace which passeth 
understanding.’ ” 

The hospital staff was at a loss to explain these 
strange words until a visit from the bishop him- 
self made everything clear. Then great was the 
rejoicing, for instinctively each heart knew that 
the simple little ring had won the fight. The story 
of its giving was an “open Sesame” wherever it 
was told, and the much needed addition to Dan- 
bury Hospital was made possible through the 
sacrifice of one childish heart’s dearest treasure. 

Verily, “A little child shall lead them.” 



CHAPTER XVI 


PEACE DISCOVERS SOME SECRETS 

Peace was on crutches! And her delight knew 
no bounds. 

‘‘Why, I didnT s^pose I’d ever really come to 
use them!” she exclaimed in breathless wonder 
while the doctor was adjusting the pads to her 
arms and showing her how to manage them. 

‘ ‘ Didn ’t I tell you that some fine day you would 
be walking again!” he demanded. 

‘ ‘ 0, yes, but I thought that was just so I ’d keep 
on hoping for something which never could 
happen. ’ ’ 

The doctor glanced in surprise over the brown 
head at the big sister Gail, who was watching 
proceedings with interest, and his lips formed the 
question, “Doesn’t she know the whole truth!” 

“No, I think not,” Gail whispered back. 

“Then let’s not tell her. She will enjoy it more 
if she finds it out herself.” 

Gail nodded brightly; and as the little sister 
hopped nimbly out into the hallway, anxious to 
display her new accomplishment to other patients 
and nurses, the two grown-ups fell into a confi- 
dential chat, and Peace was for the moment for- 
gotten. That just suited the small maid, eager to 
try her wings by herself, and finding that neither 

225 


226 


HEART OP GOLD 


doctor nor sister followed her, she tapped her way 
down the corridor to the broad stairway leading 
to the first floor, and began a laborious descent, 
fearful every moment lest someone should hear 
and prevent her from carrying out her daring 
plan. But no one came to stop her, and with much 
resting and readjusting of the awkward crutches. 
Peace managed to reach the bottom of the flight 
without serious mishap. 

‘‘Mercy! but that^s hard work!’’ she panted, 
pausing to get her breath before resuming her 
journey. “Now where, I wonder? 0, there’s the 
office. I’ll go call on Miss Murch first. She hasn’t 
been up to see me for days. I guess she must be 
sick herself. ’ ’ 

Softly, slowly, she tapped across the hallway to 
the office door, but stopped on the threshold. The 
room was empty. That is. Miss Murch was not 
there; but at the sound of her crutches, a coarsely 
clad, uncouth giant rose from the dimmest corner 
and shuffled toward her, twirling a greasy felt hat 
in his ham-like hands, and looking decidedly ill at 
ease. For once Peace was at a loss for a word of 
greeting, but stood with mouth open surveying 
him much as if he had been an ogre, until finally 
he growled out, “'Well, d’you b’long to this 
shebang?” 

“Y — yes.” 

“Well, where the deuce is the head mogul? I’ve 
been waiting here ’most an hour and not a soul 
has hove in sight. I came to see about Essie 
Martin.” 


HEART OP GOLD 


227 


“Essie Martin!’^ Peace was awake at once. 
That was the name of the little girl whom Miss 
Wayne had told her about long ago. “Where is 
Essie Martin r’ 

“Here.^^ 

“In this building?^’ 

“Yep.’’ 

“When did she come?” 

“A fortnight ago.” 

“What’s the matter with her?” 

“Darned nonsense. The doctor calls it ap- 
pendiceetis. ’ ’ 

“Are you her father?” 

“Yep.” 

He had turned so the light from a nearby win- 
dow fell full upon his face, and Peace deliberately 
surveyed him from head to heels; then calmly, as 
if speaking to herself, she remarked, “Well, Miss 
Wayne was right. Yovl do look like a hog, don’t 
you? Only the hogs I know are some cleaner.” 

The man glared angrily at her, but being too 
thick-skinned to take in the full meaning of the 
child’s words, he caught only the familiar name 
she had spoken. “Miss Wayne?” he bellowed. 
“A nurse? Is she here?” 

“No, but she was once. She took care of me. 
Has Essie still got her doll?” 

“Doll!” snarled the father savagely. “She 
can’t think of nothing else. The lazy jade!” 

“I knew it, I knew it!” cried Peace, clapping 
her hands triumphantly. “I told Miss Wayne 
that Essie and her mother were all right. ’Twas 


228 


HEART OF GOLD 


just you that wanted that plug of tobacco. Why 
didn^t Essie’s mother come, too?” 

‘‘She’s dead.” 

“0!” Peace was staggered by his blunt, in- 
different reply, but before she could frame another 
question. Miss Murch appeared from an inner of- 
fice, at the same moment that Miss Keith stepped 
through the doorway from behind them in search 
of her truant patient; and Peace suffered herself 
to be led docilely away. So absorbed was she in 
her new discovery that even her pleasure in her 
ability to walk again was forgotten. 

Dr. Shumway and Gail had disappeared when 
she reached her room, and the nurse reported that 
they had gone motoring; but the fact that they 
had neglected to invite her to accompany them 
failed to bother her much. Her busy brain was 
seething with new schemes. She must find Essie 
Martin and talk with her. Where was the head 
nurse? She would know all about the case. There, 
Miss Keith had gone to answer someone’s bell. 
Peace clapped her hands in silent glee, and mak- 
ing sure that the eagle-eyed nurse was actually 
out of range, she hurriedly set out to find Miss 
Gee, knowing full well that that kindly woman 
would be able to tell her what she wanted most to 
learn. 

The next day when Gail appeared, prepared for 
a storm of passionate reproaches. Peace pounced 
upon her with the exclamation, “0, sister, I’ve got 
the most questions to ask and the most things to 
tell! It’s been ages since I’ve seen you. I hardly 


HEART OP GOLD 


229 


know where to begin, — whether to tell about Essie 
first, or — ’’ 

‘‘Who is Essie? laughed Gail, settling herself 
composedly for the torrent of prattle that was sure 
to follow. 

“Why, Essie Martin, the little girl which Miss 
Wayne told me about, — the one she sent two dolls 
to. One got burned up, you ’member.’’ 

“O, yes. Well, what is the news about her?” 

“She is here in the hospital. I met her father 
yesterday. Her mother died three months ago, 
and Essie has been dreadful sick with append- 
age-itis. It’s cut out now, and she is going to get 
well, but her father don’t want her any more. 
She is only a girl and it will be years before she’s 
big enough to keep house. So he means to put her 
in an orphant asylum , — just give her away^ Gail, for 
someone to adopt ! Isn ’t it perfectly heathenish ? ’ ’ 

“But maybe she will be better off, dear, than 
she is now,” Gail answered gravely, recalling 
some of the sad incidents connected with unfortu- 
nate Essie’s brief history. 

“That’s what Miss Keith said when I was tell- 
ing her about it, but it seems dreadful for an own 
father to give away his only little girl. I 
couldn’t bear to think of her in a ’sylum, Gail, for 
she is an awful sweet little thing. I’ve been in to 
see her, and she looks lots like our Allee. So I 
asked Miss Gee if she didn’t s’pose Aunt Pen 
could make room for her at Oak Knoll, and we’ve 
written to find out. How I’d like to see Miss 
Wayne again and tell her that Essie does love her 


230 


HEART OF GOLD 


doll and that her mother didn ’t want that tobacco. 
Essie don’t want to go there — to the ’sylum, I 
mean, — but she doesn’t want to go home, either. 
Don’t you think Oak Knoll would be a nice place 
for her?” 

‘^Yes, indeed, and I am sure she would like it 
there, too. If Aunt Pen can possibly find room 
for her, she will certainly do so. I am glad Miss 
Gee has written already. ’ ’ 

‘‘So’m L It will be nice to have Essie in 
Martindale where I can go to see her sometimes. 
She is so nice. I know Allee will like her, too. 
She brought her Christmas doll along when she 
came to the hospital, and is wild to see Miss 
Wayne. The doll is dressed ever so cute, and is 
just as clean as when she got it, in spite of her 
father being such a hoggy-looking man. She must 
have had hard work to keep it like that if the 
rest of the family are as dirty as he is. Miss 
Wayne thought all the Martins wanted of her was 
what presents they could get, but you see Essie 
really loves her doll. She has named it Helen, 
after Miss Wayne. Why, there she is, now. I’ve 
a good notion to holler to her.” Peace, having 
glanced casually down into the street below, sud- 
denly started up from her chair with a gleeful 
shout. 

‘AVho?” demanded Gail, startled at the ex- 
clamation. 

^^Miss Wayne, of course. She is sitting in Dr. 
Race’s auto, and isn’t in her uniform today, either. 
I Avonder why. That is the third time I have seen 


HEART OP GOLD 


231 


her riding with the doctor when she didn’t have 
on her white clothes. She can’t have very many 
cases these days, I guess. Aren’t there any sick 
folks to take care of?” 

‘‘Why — er — I think she is going to take care of 
the doctor after this,” laughed Gail, a conscious 
blush flooding her pretty face. 

“What doctor?” 

“Dr. Race.” 

“Is he sick?” 

‘ ‘ No. O, no. But Miss Wayne is soon to become 
his wife, my dear. ’ ’ 

“His wife! Mercy sakes! Ain’t that just my 
luck? O, dear!” wailed the small sister in 
distress. 

“Why, what in the world is the matter?” cried 
Gail in great surprise. “I am sure that is a de- 
lightful sequel to a beautiful romance. Dr. Race 
is such a good man as well as a wonderfully suc- 
cessful physician, and Miss Wayne will make an 
ideal wife for him. Think how happy they will 
be in a little home of their very own.” 

“That may all be so,” Peace reluctantly ad- 
mitted, “but what am I going to do now for a 
pattern? She was an old maid — she said so her- 
self — and I’d made up my mind to be just like 
her; and here she’s going to be married after all. 
That’s the way it happens every time with me. 
I thought Miss Swift wanted Dr. Race for a hus- 
band. The nurses used to joke about it all the 
time, and if Miss Wayne was going to get mar- 
ried at all, I don’t see why she didn’t pick out Dr. 


234 


HEART OP GOLD 


coax her to set the day. You don’t mean to say 
that you object!” 

‘‘No — 0, no. If she’s got to have a husband, I 
don’t know of a better one than you, except St. 
John, and he is already married once. But — I — 
am — surprised! Isn’t she — er — rather young!” 

And she could not understand why they 
laughed. 


CHAPTER XVn 


A HOSPITAL WEDDING 

Peace, with writing pad and pencil in hand, 
climbed laboriously up into the deep window 
recess overlooking the wide lawns of Danbury 
Hospital, and propped her crutches against the 
sash, so that by no chance they could fall to the 
floor out of her reach while she was composing 
her weekly letter to St. Elspeth. 

‘‘IVe got so much to write her,’’ she sighed, 
chewing her pencil abstractedly. ‘‘I wish I could 
work a typewriter. ’Twould be so much easier to 
’tend to all my letters then. It’s tiresome writing 
things by hand. If it wasn’t Elspeth, I wouldn’t 
try today. It’s so lovely and cool just to sit here 
and watch folks pass along the street. I ’most 
wish now that I had gone with Gail and Dr. Dick 
in their auto. — There, that ’s the first thing I must 
tell Elspeth. She’ll be awful glad to know Gail 
is going to have such a nice husband. And the 
ring he gave her is too pretty for anything. 
Everyone has diamonds for their ’gagement 
rings, but it takes someone with brains to think 
up a ring out of sapphires and topazes, ’cause his 
birthday is in September and hers in November. 
When I get married, that’s the kind of a ring I 

235 


236 


HEART OF GOLD 


want, only I hope my husband’s birthday stone is 
a ruby, ’cause I like them best of all.” 

Peace paused in her soliloquy long enough to 
write the date at the top of the page; then again 
thrust the pencil point into her mouth as she 
gazed reflectively out of the open window. 

‘‘Well,” said a voice with startling abruptness 
almost at her elbow, “I shouldn’t want to be in 
her shoes. No matter which place she chooses 
someone is going to feel hurt. ’ ’ 

“That’s what she gets for being so popular,” 
laughed another voice, which Peace recognized as 
that of Miss Keith. 

“You should say ‘they,’ instead of ‘she,’ for 
Dr. Race is as popular as Miss Wayne,” inter- 
posed a third speaker; and the pair of startled 
brown eyes peering around the corner of the 
window seat beheld a quartette of white-capped 
nurses seated at a long table in the hallway, busy 
with heaps of snowy cotton and great squares of 
surgeon’s gauze. 

“I wonder what Miss Wayne has done now!” 
thought Peace, when, as if in echo of her thoughts, 
the fourth member of the little group asked hesi- 
tatingly, “What is all the fuss about? You see, 
I am so new here that I don’t understand.” 

“Well, Miss Kellogg, neither do some of us 
older ones,” retorted Miss Swift with an un- 
pleasant laugh. “It seems to me that it is ‘much 
ado about nothing.’ Whose business is it if a 
doctor and a nurse decide to get married? Why 
don’t they go to the justice of the peace or some 


HEART OF GOLD 


237 


parsonage and have it over with, instead of mak- 
ing such a stew — 

‘‘You see, Miss Kellogg,’^ interrupted Miss 
Keith mischievously, “our friend Swift had her 
eye on the doctor — ” 

“Now, girls, suggested the quiet voice of the 
first speaker, gentle Miss Gerald, “don’t enter 
into personalities, please. They always breed ill 
feeling. You have met Helen Wayne, have you not, 
Miss Kellogg!” 

“Yes, indeed. I think she is lovely.” 

“So does Dr. Race and all the rest of us,” put 
in Miss Keith, unable to resist another wicked 
glance at her neighbor. 

“Well, they are to be married very soon, and 
neither of them has any relatives living here in 
Fairview, so — ” 

“All their friends began to interfere,” said 
Miss Swift. 

“0!” But Miss Kellogg still looked mystified. 

“Now don’t pretend that it was as bad as all 
that,” protested Miss Gerald. “It seems that Dr. 
Shumway was a classmate of Dr. Race, and they 
have always been great friends; so Mrs. Wood, 
Dr. Shumway ’s sister, asked them to be married 
at her house. But Dr. Kruger’s wife and Helen 
graduated from the same school, and the Krugers 
urged them to have the ceremony performed at 
their place. ’ ’ 

“Amd then Dr. Canfield bobs up with the as- 
surance that he will feel most dreadfully hurt if 
they don’t honor him by coming there,” inter- 


236 


HEART OF GOLD 


want, only I hope my husband birthday stone is 
a ruby, ’cause I like them best of all. ’ ’ 

Peace paused in her soliloquy long enough to 
write the date at the top of the page; then again 
thrust the pencil point into her mouth as she 
gazed reflectively out of the open window. 

‘‘Well,” said a voice with startling abruptness 
almost at her elbow, “I shouldn’t want to be in 
her shoes. No matter which place she chooses 
someone is going to feel hurt. ’ ’ 

“That’s what she gets for being so popular,” 
laughed another voice, which Peace recognized as 
that of Miss Keith. 

“You should say ‘they,’ instead of ‘she,’ for 
Dr. Race is as popular as Miss Wayne,” inter- 
posed a third speaker; and the pair of startled 
brown eyes peering around the corner of the 
window seat beheld a quartette of white-capped 
nurses seated at a long table in the hallway, busy 
with heaps of snowy cotton and great squares of 
surgeon’s gauze. 

“I wonder what Miss Wayne has done now?” 
thought Peace, when, as if in echo of her thoughts, 
the fourth member of the little group asked hesi- 
tatingly, “What is all the fuss about? You see, 
I am so new here that I don ’t understand. ’ ’ 
“Well, Miss Kellogg, neither do some of us 
older ones,” retorted Miss Swift with an un- 
pleasant laugh. ‘ ‘ It seems to me that it is ‘ much 
ado about nothing.’ Whose business is it if a 
doctor and a nurse decide to get married? Why 
don’t they go to the justice of the peace or some 


HEART OF GOLD 


237 


parsonage and have it over with, instead of mak- 
ing such a stew — 

‘‘You see, Miss Kellogg,’’ interrupted Miss 
Keith mischievously, “our friend Swift had her 
eye on the doctor — ” 

“Now, girls,” suggested the quiet voice of the 
first speaker, gentle Miss Gerald, “don’t enter 
into personalities, please. They always breed ill 
feeling. You have met Helen Wayne, have you not, 
Miss Kellogg?” 

“Yes, indeed. I think she is lovely.” 

“So does Dr. Race and all the rest of us,” put 
in Miss Keith, unable to resist another wicked 
glance at her neighbor. 

“Well, they are to be married very soon, and 
neither of them has any relatives living here in 
Fairview, so — ” 

“All their friends began to interfere,” said 
Miss Swift. 

“0!” But Miss Kellogg still looked mystified. 

“Now don’t pretend that it was as had as all 
that,” protested Miss Gerald. “It seems that Dr. 
Shumway was a classmate of Dr. Race, and they 
have always been great friends; so Mrs. Wood, 
Dr. Shumway ’s sister, asked them to be married 
at her house. But Dr. Kruger’s wife and Helen 
graduated from the same school, and the Krugers 
urged them to have the ceremony performed at 
their place. ’ ’ 

“And then Dr. Canfield bobs up with the as- 
surance that he will feel most dreadfully hurt if 
they don’t honor him by coming there,” inter- 


238 


HEART OP GOLD 


rupted Miss Keith. ‘ ‘ Miss W ayne nursed her first 
case under him, and he thinks her popularity is 
due solely to the recommendation he gave her, — 
the dear old fogy!” 

‘‘Also the Fairview Club, to which Dr. Race 
belongs, wants them to be married at the Club- 
house. 0, iFs great to be popular!” 

“Why don^t they simplify matters by having a 
church wedding?” asked Miss Kellogg, much 
interested. 

“Ha — ha — ha!” laughed her three companions. 
“That’s where the joke comes. They belong to 
different churches, and are both intimate friends 
of their pastors ’ families. ’ ’ 

“Well, that does complicate matters, doesn’t 
it ! ” said the newcomer musingly. ‘ ‘ She is surely 
in a dilemma, isn ’t she ? ’ ’ 

“Don’t you agree with me that she would bet- 
ter patronize a justice of the peace?” asked Miss 
Swift. 

‘7 don’t,” replied a decided voice just behind 
them, and the quartette jumped nervously at the 
unexpected sound, for not one of them was aware 
of the hidden listener. 

“You don’t what?” they gasped, as the curly 
brown head came into view from the deep recess. 

“I don’t think she ought to patternize the 
justice of the p’lice,” replied Peace, limping over 
to the long table where they were all at work. 
“I’d just be married here at the hospital and fool 
’em all.” 

“At the hospital!” echoed Miss Keith, 


HEART OF GOLD 


239 


‘‘What utter nonsense!’’ flashed Miss Swift. 

“I think it is a novel idea,” put in the new 
nurse decidedly. 

“And why not?” asked Miss Gerald, after her 
first gasp of surprise. “Who would have a better 
right? Helen Wayne graduated from this insti- 
tution, and Harvey Race was house doctor for a 
long time. ’ ’ 

“But whoever heard of a wedding in a hospitalf* 
exclaimed Miss Swift sarcastically. “It is utterly 
ridiculous.” 

“The ceremony could take place in that bay 
window at the end of the hall,” planned Miss 
Kellogg, ignoring the attitude of her sister nurse. 
“It would make a lovely archway.” 

“And the roses are just at their best now,” 
added Miss Gerald. ‘ ‘ That is her favorite flower. ’ ’ 

“Miss Foster is a musician, isn’t she?” asked 
Miss Keith, entering into their plans with spirit. 
“We could get her to play the wedding march.” 

“On what?” inquired the dissenting member 
of the party. ‘ ‘ Our lovely little baby organ which 
has an incurable case of asthma? Or the grand 
piano which we don’t possess?” 

“The grand piano, by all means,” replied Miss 
Keith, nettled by her companion’s words. 

“Perhaps the hospital’s fairy godmother will 
turn up with a piano for the occasion, ’ ’ suggested 
the gentle little peacemaker nurse. “We certainly 
need a decent instrument badly enough.” 

“Maybe we could hire one for just that night,” 
Peace excitedly proposed. “We did that in 


240 


HEART OF GOLD 


Parker. Our school didn^t own a piano, so we 
hired one when we needed it. ’ ^ 

^‘You make me laugh, jeered Miss Swift. 
‘‘You talk as if it were all settled. Do you sup- 
pose for one moment that the Hospital Board 
would listen to such a thing 

“They meet today, — weTl ask them,^’ quietly 
answered Miss Gerald. 

“And supposing they should consent to such a 
preposterous scheme, do you think the doctors 
would allow their patients to he excited apd dis- 
turbed over having such an event in this 
building?’’ 

“It would be the best kind of a tonic for every 
soul under this roof. ‘All the world loves a 
lover,’ you know.” 

An audible sniff was the only reply their dis- 
gruntled comrade made; but at that moment Dr. 
Race himself entered the corridor and beckoned to 
Miss Gerald. So the quartette dispersed to take 
up other duties. 

Peace, her desire for letter writing forgotten, 
wandered forlornly away to her room to await 
Gail’s return, mentally chiding herself that she 
had allowed the big sister to go motoring without 
her. “I could have gone as well as not; but they 
prob’ly wouldn’t have driven very far if I had; 
while as ’tis, they’ll likely stay till dark.” 

She curled up in a comfortable bunch on the 
couch, propped her head against the window sash, 
and fell to daydreaming, until the big eyes grew 
heavy with sleep, and she drifted away to the 


HEART OF GOLD 


241 


Land of Nod, where she dreamed that her beloved 
Miss Wayne was married to the man of her choice 
by a blue-coated policeman, on the flat roof of the 
Martindale fire-house, while all the doctors and 
nurses and sick folks from Danbury Hospital 
marched around and around in procession, vainly 
seeking some means of mounting to the room also. 

Then suddenly the small sleeper was aroused by 
feeling a pair of strong arms encircling her and 
lifting her into somebody’s capacious lap. 

^^You precious child!” she heard a familiar 
voice saying, and a warm kiss was pressed upon 
her forehead. 

Her eyes flew quickly open, as she cried, ‘^0, I 
know who you are — Miss Wayne! Are — are you 
married yet?” 

^‘No, goosie. Did you suppose I could get mar- 
ried without having you there, too ? You’re almost 
as important as the bridegroom.” 

‘‘Well, I dreamed you were, but I’m glad to 
hear it isn’t so. Have you decided who you’re 
going to hurt yet?” 

“Whom I am going to hurt?” echoed Miss 
Wayne in surprise. “I hope I’m not going to hurt 
anyone. That isn’t my business.” 

“Miss Gerald said so many folks wanted you to 
be married at their house that you were bound to 
hurt someone’s feelings no matter what you did.” 

“O, but you fixed that for me beautifully. Peace 
Greenfield!” and she kissed the white forehead 
again. 

“Me! How?” 


242 


HEART OF GOLD 


‘‘I’m going to be married here at the hospital. 
The Board invited me to! What do you think of 
that? Surely everyone ought to be satisfied with 
that arrangement. ’ ’ 

“O, goody!” Peace clapped her hands gleefully. 
“I was afraid the doctors wouldn’t let you. Miss 
Swift said they wouldn’t.” 

“Miss Swift — oh, you mustn’t remember any- 
thing she says, — poor girl. ’ ’ 

“Well, I won’t, but I guess she wanted your 
doctor herself — ” 

“Hush, childie. Don’t say such things. I 
couldn’t help it. I didn’t try to make him love 
me.” 

“I’m glad he had some sense. I had picked out 
Dr. Dick for you, but my own sister Gail got him ; 
so it’s all right. I like Dr. Race next best. When 
are you going to be married?” 

“Next week Wednesday.” 

“So soon? Why, I thought it took heaps of 
time to get ready for a marriage, — making clothes, 
and baking the cake and — and all such things as 
that.” 

‘ ‘ I have taken heaps of time, ’ ’ smiled the woman 
whimsically. 

“Why, I didn’t know that. When did you get 
time? You have always been busy nursing since 
I knew you.” 

“Years and years ago, when I was a little child, 
my father made me a beautiful cedar chest, and 
on every birthday mother laid away some pillow 
slips or linen sheets, or a piece of silverware. 


HEART OP GOLD 


243 


When I grew older, I made some quilts and 
hemmed towels and napkins by the dozen, em- 
broidered sofa-cushions and doilies, and even 
fashioned some window draperies for the ‘ den ’ of 
my house to be. Only my own clothes remained 
undone when we decided to go hand in hand the, 
rest of the way through life; and much of that 
work a dressmaker has done, because I have had 
neither time nor talent.^’ 

‘‘Did she make your wedding dress!’’ asked 
Peace eagerly. “What is it like! And are you 
going to have a veil!” 

Miss Wayne hesitated. “Well, I had thought 
some of being married in my uniform — ” 

“Uniform!” Peace interrupted in keen dis- 
appointment. “Just your old white dress and cap 
and apron! Why!” 

“Because I am to be married here at the hos- 
pital.” 

“But — but — that won’t be pretty. What will 
the doctor do for a uniform, — so ’s folks will know 
he is a doctor, I mean! Will he wear his auto- 
mobile gloves and lug his medicine v ’lise ! ’ ’ Peace 
inquired. 

Miss Wayne drew her breath in sharply, unable 
to decide whether the child in her lap was sar- 
castic or in earnest. But before she could make 
reply. Peace continued, “Everyone knows what 
you look like in your nurse’s uniform, but we’ve 
none of us seen you in a sure-enough wedding 
dress. You’d look lovely in one, I know, even if 
you are fat — I mean plump. I don’t see why you 


244 


HEART OF GOLD 


are so stuck on being married in a white cap and 
apron. ^ ’ 

‘‘Well, as to that, I only thought it might be 
more appropriate. Some of the nurses hinted — ’’ 

“0, yes, that sounds like that Swift personas 
plan; but / don’t think it is at all nice. How does 
Dr. Race like it?” 

“O, I haven’t told him yet. In fact, I really 
haven’t fully decided. I have mother’s wedding 
dress. Sister Lucy and my cousin Dell were mar- 
ried in it, and perhaps I — ” 

“0, do!” shrieked Peace enraptured. “Those 
long-ago wedding dresses are always so homely 
and cute. I just love ’em. Grandma still has hers, 
and she said she hoped some of us would want to 
wear it when we marry, but I guess she didn’t 
’xpect any of us would be ready for it quite so 
soon. She was awfully ’stonished when Dr. Dick 
wrote that he wanted Gail. I wish she was going 
to be married when you are. Then we could have 
a double wedding. I’ve always wanted to see one 
of those things.” 

Miss Wayne smiled at the child’s ingenious 
plans, but said seriously, “Well, if I am to be 
married in a satin gown and lace veil, we must do 
things up properly all around. I’ll have Gail for 
one of my bridesmaids, and you must be my 
flower girl.” 

“0,” gasped Peace, breathless with delight. 
“Wouldn’t that be grand! But I can’t. Miss 
Wayne. A limpy flower girl would be dreadful. 
Let Essie Martin be flower girl, and I’ll whistle 


HEART OP GOLD 


245 


for you to march up by. How will that doV^ She 
looked up eagerly at the face above her, but Miss 
Wayne had not heard her question. 

Essie Martin!^’ said the woman in grave 
wonder. ‘‘What do you know about Essie 
Martin ? ’ ^ 

- “She is here — 

‘ ‘ Where ? ’ ’ 

“Upstairs in Miss Blake’s ward.” 

“Since when! How did she get here? Is she 
very sick? How did you know her and why 
didn’t you tell me before?” 

‘ ‘ I bain ’t seen you myself since I found out that 
Essie was here.” Peace suddenly remembered 
her grievance against her beloved friend. “You 
haven’t been up once for weeks. I’ve seen you only 
from my window when you were riding with Dr. 
Race. Essie has got appendicitis, but it’s cut 
out now and she is almost well enough to go home, 
— that is, to Aunt Pen, for her father is going to 
give her away. She still has her doll, and it is 
named ‘Helen’ after you, and her mother is dead, 
and she would be awfully pleased to be flower 
girl at your wedding, ’cause she likes you. She 
didn’t want that plug of tobacco, nor neither did 
her mother. And her father looks like the hog 
you said he did, only he is dirtier. ’ ’ 

With quick intuition. Miss Wayne listened to 
this amazing jumble; then gently slid Peace back 
onto her couch as she said with abrupt decision, 
“I must see Essie. Anyway, here comes Gail. 
You will want to talk to her for a while, and it 


246 


HEART OP GOLD 


will soon be time for tea. Good-bye, little Heart 
o^ Gold.»» 

She was gone, and Peace was left alone with the 
big sister to tell all the marvelous things that had 
happened that one afternoon. 

So it was decided that Gail was to be brides- 
maid with Miss Keith, Miss Gerald, and Miss 
Crane; Essie Martin was to be flower girl, and 
Billy Bolee the little page. Miss Foster was to 
play the piano, borrowed for the occasion, with 
Peace to whistle the accompaniment. 

O, it took hours of the most delightful planning! 
Then nurses and doctors got busy. Miss Wayne 
was banished from the building entirely, and Dr. 
Race was bidden to go his rounds with his eyes 
shut. There was much rustling and bustling as 
the host of eager friends decorated the wide, white 
corridor for the occasion. No sound of hammer 
must disturb the patients housed within those 
walls, but it was marvelous what miracles a few 
thumb tacks and bits of string accomplished. 
Long ropes of smilax and syringa, intertwined 
with pink tulle, swung from the high ceiling. The 
great chandelier and lesser lights were festooned 
with the same delicate greenery* The elevator 
shaft was completely hidden by woodland vines 
which Gail and Keturah Wood had gathered, and 
huge jardinieres filled with waxy snowballs occu- 
pied every available corner. The big window 
where the bride and groom were to stand was 
hung with fishnet, twined and intertwined with 
ferns from the forest and sweet wild roses 'with 


HEART OF GOLD 


247 


the dew sparkling on their rosy petals, for the 
wedding was to take place in early morning. 

At last everything was in readiness, everyone 
was dressed in his best, the nurses and convales- 
cent patients were assembled in one end of the cor- 
ridor, the outside guests in the other end, and it 
lacked only the presence of the bridal party to 
make the beautiful scene complete. 

Peace, resplendent in filmy white, had stolen 
from her place behind the piano for one last 
glimpse of the festive decorations, while she waited 
impatiently for the chimes of the distant court- 
house to strike the hour. ‘ ‘ 0, but it ’s lovely, ’ ’ she 
breathed in ecstasy, as her eyes wandered from 
floor to ceiling. ^‘How everyone loves Miss 
Wayne 

‘‘Do you know why?^’ asked a voice at her 
elbow, and she looked up into the grave face of the 
kindly matron. 

“ No, ^ ’ she managed to stammer. ‘ ‘ Why ? ’ ’ 

“Because she has a heart of gold.’^ 

Miss Wayne’s parting words of yesterday 
flashed through the active brain, and Peace asked 
with breathless eagerness, “0, tell me how to get 
a heart of gold, then. ’ ’ 

“The good Lord gives us each one when we 
come into the world,” answered the gray-haired 
woman earnestly. “But many of us are content 
enough with the glitter of the fool ’s gold which is 
found a-plenty in every life ; and we don ’t delve for 
the real gold. We slip along in a don’t-care way, 
neglecting the opportunities that come to us to 


248 


HEART OF GOLD 


better humanity; seeking the easiest tasks, satis- 
fied with that kind of existence. The miner who 
digs in the bowels of the earth for his gold has to 
work and struggle and strive. So we, too, if we 
make the most of God^s gifts to us, must work and 
struggle and strive. 

A little perplexed, for poor Peace could not 
understand many of the long words which the 
matron had used, she seemed to grasp the ‘Giny 
text’’ of the little sermon, and said thoughtfully as 
she turned away, ‘‘Then I’ll work and stumble 
and thrive, for I want a heart of gold like Miss 
Wayne’s.” 

Then slowly the silvery toned chimes began to 
ring, there was a rustling sound on the stairway, 
and Peace had just time to slip into her place 
again when the strains of the piano began the 
measured notes of stately Lohengrin. From some- 
where Dr. Race and the minister appeared and 
took their places beneath the canopy of wild 
roses, but Peace paid scant attention to them. 
Her eyes were glued upon the other end of the 
corridor where the bridal procession was already 
approaching, with Essie Martin in the lead, and — 
could it be? — yes, it was golden-haired, radiant 
Allee marching beside her, both scattering rose 
petals from dainty baskets hung from their arms. 
How had Allee gotten there? Peace almost for- 
got her part when her amazed eyes fell upon that 
familiar form. But close behind the little flower 
girls came the four bridesmaids, gowned in deli- 
cate green and garlanded with wild roses ; and the 


HEART OF GOLD 


249 


sight of the older sister’s sweet face restored the 
young musician’s composure, so that after only 
one or two quavering notes, she whistled more 
blithely than ever. This certainly was a day of 
delightful happenings! 

Following the pretty bridesmaids toddled wee 
Billy Bolee, clad in white from head to toe, and 
bearing in his chubby little hands a tiny white 
velvet pillow upon which rested the simple gold 
wedding ring. The bride was almost too lovely to 
describe, dressed as she was in the heavy brocaded 
satin gown which had been her mother’s forty 
years before, and half hidden by the clinging, 
filmy veil, which floated like a fleecy cloud about 
her. 

Peace never could remember what happened 
after that. She saw the bride take her place beside 
Dr. Race, and she saw the black-f rocked minister 
stand up in front of them. Then someone gave 
a signal and a shower of rose petals fell from the 
bell above their heads and covered doctor and 
nurse with sweet fragrance. Immediately the 
guests began to file past to greet the happy couple, 
and a subdued murmur of voices filled the long 
corridor. 

‘‘But when is the wedding to be!” demanded 
Peace in surprise. “Seems to me folks are in an 
awful hurry. Why don’t they wait till the wed- 
ding is over!” 

‘ ‘ The wedding is already over, ’ ’ answered Miss 
Foster, laughing at the child’s dismay. 


250 


HEART OF GOLD 


‘^They aren’t married yetf* protested Peace in 
great astonishment. 

‘‘Yes, they are, and the wedding breakfast will 
be served directly at Dr. Kruger’s house.” 

“But — but — doesn’t it take longer to get mar- 
ried than that?” 

“No.” 

“I — I thought it would.” 

“Why, childie?” 

“Well, it took so long to put the dec ’rations up, 
and for everyone to dress, it seems ’s if the min- 
ister might have talked a little longer. They’d 
hardly stood up together before it was all over.” 

Again Miss Foster laughed merrily. “Just you 
wait, little girl, till it comes your turn to stand up 
while the minister talks, and you will think it is 
plenty long enough,” she warned, rising to join 
the bridal party moving slowly down the cor- 
ridor toward the waiting autos in the street below. 

At last the wonderful event was over, the happy 
doctor and his smiling bride had departed on their 
honeymoon amid a shower of fragrant rose 
petals ; and Peace, clinging fast to Allee, was again 
in her room with Gail. 

“O, but it was beau-ti-ful ! ” she sighed bliss- 
fully. “I hope my wedding will be as nice. 
Didn’t the music sound lovely? I ’most forgot to 
whistle when I saw Allee coming along with 
Essie Martin, — I was so ’stonished! Nobody had 
hinted a word that she was going to be here. I 
didn’t even ’spect Miss Wayne knew her. My! 
but the day has been full of s ’prises! There was 


HEART OF GOLD 


251 


the wedding first, — I’d no idea it could be so 
pretty, — and then there was Allee’s coming when 
I thought she was at home in Martindale. And 
then Dr. Dick told me while we were at breakfast 
that I could go home in two weeks more, and 
right after that along came Mrs. Wood and said 
you and Allee and me were to be her guests for 
the last week we were here. And now Essie Martin 
has just been in to tell the best news of all, — Miss 
Wayne, I mean Mrs. Race — is going to adopt her, 
and she won’t have to go to Oak Knoll after all. 
O, Gail I do feel ’s if I could flap my wings and 
crow, — I’m so happy!” 

Tenderly Gail drew the small sisters closely to 
her side, and smiled radiantly down at the two up- 
turned faces, as she said simply, ‘‘And I, too.” 





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CHAPTER XVm 


THE SEVEN MCGEES 

The last week at Danbury Hospital rolled by 
almost too quickly to suit even Peace, busy saying 
good-bye to the hosts of friends which that great 
roof sheltered; for now that the time had come for 
her to go, she found herself strangely loath to 
leave the little white room where she had spent 
so many months. 

‘ ‘ I knew, of course, that I loved all the doctors 
and nurses, ’ ^ she explained in apologetic, troubled 
tones to the sympathizing sister, Gail, ‘‘but I 
never s ’posed I’d hate to go home so had when it 
came time. I — I really want to go home, too, hut 
somehow — ^I’m going to miss the hospital dread- 
fully, Gail.” 

“Certainly you will, dear,” the older girl an- 
swered with an understanding heart. “You have 
been here such a long time and had such a de- 
lightful experience for the most part, — ” 

“And made so many really, truly friends,” 
Peace chimed in eagerly. 

“Yes, and made so many friends, that it is no 
wonder you rather hate to leave it all, even if you 
are going home. But you wouldn’t want to stay 
here always — ” 


253 


254 


HEART OP GOLD 


‘^0, mercy, no!’^ Peace shivered. ‘‘There are 
too many sick folks here. They ache and yell and 
cry, because they canT help themselves. Now I 
didnT hurt real much this time, though it’s taken 
a long time to finish the job, but I could have 
’most anything to eat and could get around in my 
wheel-chair or with my crutches for weeks and 
weeks; while most folks are so awfully sick that 
they have to live on mottled milk and beef juice, 
and they get so skinny and white and weak that 
they don’t know what to do with themselves. That 
must be dreadful hard and I’ll really be glad to 
get away where I can’t see so many sick people. 
Yes, it’s awfully nice to have such a lovely home to 
go to, and it’ll be so much fun to get around again, 
even if ’tis on crutches. There are lots of games I 
can play no matter if I can’t run, and Allee and 
me are going to plan out lots more while we are 
visiting Mrs. W ood. I ’xpect maybe she will be able 
to help us some, too, ’cause Billy Bolee won ’t ever 
be able to run about like other boys, and he ’ll want 
to know some nice, int ’resting games that can be 
played sitting still.” 

“Yes, I think that will be a good scheme,” Gail 
agreed, wondering why Peace never seemed to sus- 
pect the secret of those awkward crutches. “But 
now you better rest awhile, for Dick — er Dr. Shum- 
way will soon be here with his auto ready to take 
us out to his sister’s house, and you want to be 
bright and fresh for dinner tonight. ’ ’ 

So with much laughter and many regrets, the 
hospital staff and all the patients watched Peace 


HEART OP GOLD 


255 


depart from its portals, — laughter, because she 
was to be strong and well once more; regrets be- 
cause of the void she left behind her. And Peace, 
surprised that they cared so much, went her way 
almost content. It was such a joy to be out-of- 
doors again; so wonderful to get close to the heart 
of nature once more ; and she improved every mo- 
ment of the week that followed in getting ac- 
quainted with every being, beast and bird on the 
place, from grave-eyed Mr. Wood who was at 
home only in the evenings, down to Twitter, the 
yellow-coated, golden-throated canary, which sang 
all day in his cage. She romped with Billy Bolee, 
made pies with Kate, the cook, played checkers 
with their kindly host, and tried to master the art 
of embroidery under Mrs. Wood’s instruction; but 
her favorite occupation was stumping about the 
grassy yard with her crutches, and it surprised 
and delighted her to find how little they really 
hampered her. When she tired of her explora- 
tions, there was a great elm by the fence where she 
loved to rest, and it was here that she sat playing 
with Billy Bolee one hot afternoon when she was 
startled to hear a strange voice demand, ^‘Are 
you truly lame?” 

Glancing up in surprise, she beheld a fat, dirty 
face, crowned by a shock of tumbled red hair, 
pressed against the lattice-work, while a pair of 
alert, gray eyes peered at her through the narrow 
opening. So unexpected was the query, — for Peace 
had not been aware of another’s presence, — that 


256 


HEART OF GOLD 


she could think of nothing to say, and merely 
grunted, ‘‘HuhT^ 

The stranger outside the gate obediently re- 
peated, ^‘Are you truly lameT’ 

^‘Yes. Why?^^ 

‘‘ ’Cause Ma says she guesses this must be a 
lame house,” piped up another voice close by, 
and Peace discovered a second dirty-faced, red- 
headed youngster peering between the slats. 

‘‘A lame house f* echoed Peace in bewilder- 
ment. “How can a house be lame?” 

“Aw, Antonio don’t mean the house, nor neither 
does Ma. They just mean that every one what 
lives in it is lame.” 

“I don’t see how you make that out,” Peace 
began, still puzzled. 

“Well, you’re lame, ain’t you?” 

“Yes.” 

“And that little baby is lame.” 

“Y— e— s.” 

“And the doctor man is lame — ” 

“But not for keeps,” Peace eagerly interrupted. 
“He just broke his leg and some day it will be all 
well again, and he won’t even limp or need a 
cane. ’ ’ 

“ Oh ! ” The first speaker seemed relieved. 

“And will the baby some day walk all right?” 
asked the second tousled figure. 

“No — 0, I don’t s’pose his short leg will ever 
catch up with the other one now,” Peace reluct- 
antly admitted. ‘ ‘ But he ’s not very lame anyway. 
He don’t limp much^ 


HEART OF GOLD 


257 


‘‘Neither do you/’ persisted the hoy called 
Antonio, “but you use crutches. You’re worser 
off than the rest of the bunch.” 

“But I don’t live here,” she flashed trium- 
phantly, bound to uphold the honor of that house- 
hold at any cost. “I’m just visiting for this week. ’ ’ 

“Oh!” This time the exclamation expressed 
such regret that Peace asked solicitously, “What’s 
the matter? Did you like to think of a whole 
bunch of lame folks living in one house ? ’ ’ 

“No,” the older boy declared, “but we was in 
hopes you lived here, for then we could come over 
sometimes and play with you maybe.” 

Peace surveyed her two uninvited guests dubi- 
ously and then glanced at her own spotless frock 
and at Billy’s spandy new rompers. “Who — ^who 
— are you?” she finally stammered, unable to keep 
her pert little nose from showing some of the dis- 
gust she felt. 

“My name is Tobias McGee,” he answered 
pompously, as if proud of the fact. “I’m ten 
years old. Tony — he’s one of the twins — he’s 
eight.” 

“I am Antonio,” the second boy interrupted, 
bristling belligerently. “How many times has Ma 
told you to quit calling me Tony?” 

“She’s told you to leave off calling me Toby, 
too,” retorted Tobias scathingly, “but you hain’t 
did it. Gus is the other twin — ” 

“Augustus,” corrected the offended Antonio. 

“See here,” blustered Tobias threateningly, 
‘ ‘ are you telling this, or me ? ’ ’ 


258 


HEART OP GOLD 


Peace, watching with fascinated eyes the pend- 
ing scrap, became suddenly aware that her guests 
had increased in number, and, glancing over her 
shoulder, she found five other dirty, ragged, red- 
headed, unattractive looking children lined up 
outside the fence, peeping at her through the slats. 
‘‘Are — are there any more of youP’ she de- 
manded, taking a rapid inventory of the new 
arrivals. 

The largest of the visitors, a girl of perhaps 
twelve years, swept her eyes down the line and 
answered briefly, “Nope.’’ 

“Well, bow’d you get here, Feely?” asked 
Tobias, forgetting his battle with the twin in his 
surprise at his sister’s presence. “ ’Twas your 
turn to go with the milk today.” 

“The Carters and Moody s quit taking,” she 
answered indifferently. “There was only the 
Bowmans to d ’liver.” 

‘ ‘ The Carters and Moodys quit ? ’ ’ echoed Tobias 
and Antonio in dismay. 

“That’s what I said,” she answered sharply. 

“But what for?” 

“I dunno.” She gathered up the smallest of 
her kin, a fretful, whining child of about two 
years, and set it upon the fence-rail so its dirty, 
bare legs dangled on the inside of the enclosure. 

“Does Ma know?” 

“She ain’t to home yet.” 

“ Y’ know she said it would mean another wash- 
ing if any more of the milk customers quit us. ’ ’ 

The oldest girl nodded her head dully. 


HEART OP GOLD 


259 


‘‘Who do you s’pose she will get?’’ persisted 
Tobias. 

“How d’ you s’pose I know?” snapped the 
girl. 

“P’r’aps Mrs. Wood might let her do her clothes 
again,” suggested Antonio, in wheedling tones. 

“Mrs. Wood?” asked Peace, rousing suddenly 
to speech. “My Mrs. Wood?” 

Seven dirty, frowsy heads nodded solemnly. 

“Is your mother her washwoman?” 

“She used to be,” the whole line chorused. 

“Why ain’t she now?” 

“ ’Cause Mrs. Wood quit her.” 

“But what for?” 

There was an embarrassing pause while the 
tribe of McGee glanced inquiringly from one to 
the other. At last Antonio timidly ventured the 
explanation, “She said Ma’s tubs got iron rust all 
over her clo’es.” 

“Ain’t that reason enough for Mrs. Wood to 
quit?” demanded Peace, cocking her head 
judiciously. 

“Ma was awful careful,” the girl called Feely 
defended. 

“But her tubs are awful old,” half whispered a 
smaller girl, who up to this moment had stood 
silently sucking her thumb. 

“Shut up, Vinie, she ain’t talking to you,” com- 
manded Tobias, raising a threatening hand. 

Vinie stuffed her thumb hastily into her mouth 
again and shrank back against the fence, the 
picture of fear; but Peace forestalled the blow by 


260 


HEART OP GOLD 


crying, ‘ ^ Let her be, Tobias McGee. She can talk 
if she wants to.^’ 

The boy flushed angrily and muttered, ‘^She^s 
always butting in. She ^s a reg flar tattle-tale. ’ ^ 

“Well, you^re a reg Tar coward,*’ Peace sput- 
tered. “She’s lots littler than you.” 

“I wouldn’t have hit her.” 

“You would, too,” Vinie removed her thumb 
long enough to say. 

“If you’re going to fight, you can go straight 
home,” Peace interposed. “Mrs. Wood wants 
Billy to grow up a gentleman. ’ ’ 

“We ain’t fighting,” they chorused indignantly. 

“You looked like it all right. You’re always 
jawing each other, and I don’t like scrappers.” 

“We won’t jaw any more,” they meekly prom- 
ised, ‘ ‘ if you will let us come over and play. ’ ’ 

“I — I’ll have to ask Mrs. Wood,” she stam- 
mered, for, while the newcomers interested her, 
their slovenly appearance made her recoil from 
any closer contact. 

“Then we can’t come,” wailed Antonio de- 
spairingly. 

“Why not?” 

“ ’Cause Mrs. Wood don’t like us.” 

“How do you know?” 

“She won’t let us play with Billy.” 

“P’r’aps you are too rough.” 

“We wouldn’t hurt him the least speck.” 

“Maybe it’s ’cause you are so dirty.” 

A chorus of indignant denial arose, but at that 
moment Mrs. Wood herself appeared at an open 


HEART OF GOLD 


261 


window and called for Billy Bolee. Immediately 
the McGees scattered like startled pheasants, and 
Peace wonderingly turned her steps toward the 
house, surprising her hostess as she entered the 
cool room by the blunt question, ^‘Don^t you like 
the McGee family P’ 

‘ ‘ Why — er — I can get along nicely without their 
company,’^ Mrs. Wood answered evasively. 

^^But what’s the matter with them?” Peace 
insisted. 

‘‘Nothing, I guess, except they are never 
clean,” laughed the woman, and Gail looked up 
from a letter she was writing long enough to 
ask, “Who are the McGees, Peace? Your latest 
acquaintances?” 

“Mrs. McGee is a widow who takes in washing,” 
explained their hostess, without giving Peace a 
chance to make reply. “She and her seven chil- 
dren live in that three-room shack across the field. 
When her husband died she took plain sewing to 
do for a time, but couldn’t earn enough at it to 
keep her family from want, so she turned to the 
washtubs. She does her work well or did at first, 
but of late she has attempted more than she can 
handle satisfactorily, and has grown so careless 
that several of us have had to take our washings 
elsewhere. ’ ’ 

“ ’Twasn’t careless,” Peace interrupted earn- 
estly. “It’s her tubs. They are so old and rusty 
now. ’ ’ 

“Then she should get new ones if she expects 
people to hire her. I can’t afford to send my 


262 


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clothes to the wash and have them come back all 
spotted up with iron-rust. It is almost impossible 
to get it out.^^ 

‘ ‘ I guess maybe she hasn ’t money enough to buy 
more tuhs,’^ Peace hazarded. ^‘All her milk cus- 
tomers are quitting her.” 

‘‘I can’t say that I blame them.” Keturah 
Wood shrugged her shapely shoulders. 

‘‘Did you quit her?” 

“No, I never took milk from there.” 

“Ain’t it good milk?” 

“It ought to be. Their cow is a Holstein and 
gives lots of milk. But someway I can’t stomach 
the children.” 

“Can’t stomach the children?” echoed Peace 
wonderingly. 

“They are so dirty,” Mrs Wood explained in 
apologetic tones. ‘ ‘ Mrs. McGee used to keep them 
as neat as pins when I first came here to live, and 
her kitchen was simply spotless. But she has too 
much to attend to now, and the children run 
wild.” 

“Would you get your milk there if they were 
clean ? ’ ’ 

“Possibly. My milkman isn’t real dependable. 
Sometimes there will be three or four days in a 
month when I can’t get all I need, and if I ever 
want any extra, I always have to tell him two or 
three days before. The McGees seem to be able to 
supply a body at any time with any amount. But 
no one enjoys having such inexcusably dirty chil- 
dren bring their milk even if they know the milk 


HEART OF GOLD 


263 


itself is absolutely clean. Somehow it takes away 
one’s appetite.” 

‘‘Why don’t that big girl keep the others clean? 
She’s old enough, ain’t she?” 

“She’s too lazy. They all are. They fight all 
day sometimes over whose turn it is to carry the 
milk or bring in the wood. Mrs. McGee never has 
trained them to help her a bit, and though Ophelia 
is past twelve years old, she is as useless as the 
baby when it comes to doing the housework.” 

“Ophelia — ain’t that a funny name!” 

“Ridiculous!” laughed Mrs. Wood. “But so 
are all the rest. Having no fortune to endow his 
children with, old Pat McGee gave his offspring 
as ‘ high-toned and iligent names as iver belonged 
to rich folks.’ They are Ophelia and Tobias, An- 
tonio and Augustus, Lavinia and Humphrey, and 
the poor little babe Nadene. Commonly they are 
known as Feely, Toby, Tony, Gus, Vinie, Humpy 
and Deanie. Their real names are just for dress- 
up occasions. ’ ’ 

“It takes me back to Parker days,” said Gail 
reminiscently. “Only the McGees are worse off 
than the Greenfields were, for there are seven of 
them and all so small. What would happen if 
the mother should slip away as our mother did ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ 0, the orphan asylum would open its doors, of 
course. But even at that they might stand a 
better chance than they do now. They never will 
amount to anything, growing up as they are, 
like weeds. She can’t give them the attention 
they ought to have, and she is not teaching them 


264 


HEART OP GOLD 


to be independent or helpful in any way. Toby and 
the twins are almost beyond her control now. 
Some of us neighbor, s have tried to get her to send 
part of the tribe at least to a Children’s Home. 
Such an institution would certainly give them the 
training that she can’t — ” 

‘‘0, but think of having to eat oatmeal every 
morning without milk or sugar,” interrupted 
Peace in horrified accents, ‘‘and your bread and 
potatoes without any butter, and never having 
any pie or cake, and meat only once a week, and 
hardly any fruit, and — ugh! I’d starve!” 

“Peace, oh. Peace,” called Allee’s voice from 
outside the window, “come see what I’ve found.” 
And the crippled sister, hastily adjusting her 
crutches, went to discover what was wanted. 

The next day while she was sitting alone under 
the great tree in the back yard, she heard a 
stealthy rustling in the grass beyond the fence, 
and glancing up from the book she had been try- 
ing to interest herself in, she again saw the dirty 
face of Tobias McGee peering at her through the 
lattice work. Then Antonio appeared, followed 
one by one by the rest of the tousled McGees. 
She surveyed them critically from head to heels 
and then scathingly remarked, “I sh’d think you 
would be ashamed to go so dirty.” 

“We — we ain’t none of us got such pretty clo’es 
as you,” stammered Tobias, much confused by 
this unlooked-for reception, and he thrust both 
grimy hands behind his back as if that would hide 
all his filth. 


HEART OF GOLD 


265 


“You don’t have to have pretty clothes to have 
’em clean, ’ ’ Peace retorted. 

“Ma ain’t got time to keep us washed up,” ex- 
plained Tobias, apologetically. 

“Why don’t you do it yourselves then?” 

“But — ^we — can’t,” they gasped in chorus. 

“I don’t see why.” 

“We ain’t big enough.” 

“You are, too. Feely’s as old as Hope was 
when we were in Parker, and Hope kept after us 
till we were glad to wash our faces and hands and 
brush our hair. Of course she helped, but there 
were Cherry and Allee and me all younger ’n her. 
And we helped Gail, too. I churned the butter 
once, and we helped houseclean and — and pick 
chickens, and run errands and bring in the 
wood — ” 

“Huh, us boys do that,” broke in Gus scorn- 
fully. “Girls ain’t s ’posed to fetch wood and 
water.” 

“All our boys were girls,” replied Peace loftily, 
“and some of us had to bring in the wood or else 
how would it have got there?” 

“Did you wash dishes?” asked Ophelia, with a 
slight display of curiosity. 

“Cherry washed and I wiped.” 

“How old was Cherry?” demanded Antonio. 

“0, about ten, when we lived in Parker, I 
guess.” 

“Feely’s twelve and she don’t wash the dishes 
yet,” tattled Vinie, and was promptly rewarded 
with a smart slap from the older sister. 


266 


HEART OP GOLD 


‘‘Shame on you!^’ cried Peace indignantly. 
“You are the meanest family I ever knew. Mrs. 
Wood said you are always fighting, and that^s all 
you’ve done every time you’ve been over here.” 

“I don’t care, Vinie had no business to say 
that, ’ ’ muttered Ophelia, scowling sullenly. ‘ ‘ She 
can’t never keep her mouth shut. I just hate to 
wash dishes.” 

“So do I,” Peace cheerfully agreed. “But I 
don’t go around slapping folks’ faces ’cause of it. 
Besides, Gail had all she could ’tend to without 
bothering about the dishes. We had to do them 
or go hungry. Who does them at your house!” 

“Ma,” volunteered Vinie once more, edging 
warily out of range of the big sister’s hand. 

“After she’s washed all day?” asked Peace in 
horrified accents. 

Ophelia was scowling threateningly; Vinie 
drew a little further away and nodded silently. 

“Don’t any of you do anything to help her?” 

“I mind the kids,” said Ophelia defiantly. 

“I should think you would keep ’em scrubbed 
up a little cleaner, then,” observed Peace criti- 
cally. “They — you are all so dirty you — you — 
smell. I don’t wonder folks won’t buy milk from 
you. ’ ’ 

“Ma takes care of the milk herself and washes 
the buckets and covers ’em all up careful before 
she gives ’em to us to tote,” cried Tobias, much 
insulted by Peace ’s frank words. 

“I don’t care,” retorted that young lady with 
dignity. “Mrs. Wood herself says she can’t swal- 


HEART OF GOLD 


267 


low you children, you are so dirty; and she would 
take milk from you if you were clean, ’cause I 
asked her. ’ ’ 

Silence reigned while each young McGee dug his 
bare toes into the soft earth and chewed his finger 
or thumb. Then Tobias growled, ‘‘Mrs. Wood is 
too p’tic’lar. Ma says so.” 

“I’ll bet Mrs. Moody and Mrs. Carter are just as 
p’tic’lar,” Peace declared hotly. “If you’d ask 
them why they quit taking milk of you, and just 
made ’em tell you the truth, I’ll bet they would say 
that you kids were always so dirty it made ’em 
sick to look at you. ’ ’ 

Vinie withdrew her thumb from her mouth, 
stopped shuffling her dirty little feet in the grass, 
stared thoughtfully at the candid young hostess on 
the other side of the fence, and quietly disap- 
peared, followed by solemn-eyed Humphrey. No 
one noticed her going, no one missed her from her 
place in the rank, but while belligerent Tobias 
was still arguing the question with stubborn 
Peace, Vinie returned with Humpy still at her 
heels. She had hurried, and her breath came 
quick and fast, but before she had reached her 
place in the line-up again, she called excitedly, 
“That pretty girl is right. We’re all too dirty 
to suit Mrs. Moody and Mrs. Carter.” 

“Wh — at I” shrieked the brothers and sisters, 
wheeling about in consternation to face their new 
accuser, — one of their own kin. 

“Well, I asked ’em honest true, just like she 
said to do, and after a bit they owned up that it 


268 


HEART OP GOLD 


wasn’t the milk they didn’t like, but the looks of 
us was too much. ’ ’ 

Ophelia stared dully at the small sister for a 
long moment, then suddenly slumped down in the 
tall grass and wept. Tobias, Antonio and 
Augustus all followed suit, and even baby Nadene 
lifted her voice in lament, though she did not 
know what she was crying about. 

Surprised, awed and troubled, Peace drew near 
to the fence and pressed her face against the lat- 
tice work to watch this unusual performance; but 
Vinie, after one contemptuous glance at the snivel- 
ling group, turned energetically away toward the 
little green shack across the field, still holding 
fast to Humpy’s grimy fist. 

‘‘Where you going?” demanded Antonio, peep- 
ing at her from under his arm as he lay sprawled 
in the clover. 

“I ain’t got time to bawl,” she flung back over 
her shoulder. “I promised to go home and clean 
up Humpy and me. Then Mrs. Carter’s going to 
give me two cents to go to the store for her.” 

Peace watched the two little figures trudging 
off across the meadow, and then she said thought- 
fully, “She’s right, and I b’lieve you could get 
back all your milk customers if you’d everyone 
clean up once and stay clean. Why don’t you 
try ? ’ ’ 

Antonio lifted his head, looked at his twin and 
began slowly to struggle to his feet. Augustus 
joined him, then Tobias, and finally Ophelia. She 


HEART OF GOLD 


269 


looked timidly toward Peace, and asked meekly, 
Don’t you s’pose Ma would scold?” 

What for? Washing your faces? No, I don’t. 
She ’s a funny mother if she does. It ’s easier work 
to sell milk than to do washings, and I should 
think you’d try to help her all you can so she 
won’t get sick and die and all of you have to go 
to an orphant asylum.” 

The round-eyed children gazed at her in af- 
fright, then swiftly made off through the tall grass 
in Vinie’s wake. 

They did not return that day or the next; and 
Peace had concluded that they were angry with 
her; hut the third morning bright and early they 
appeared at the gate, unlatched it, and marched in 
solemn file up the path to the house. Mrs. Wood 
herself, with Peace close behind, answered their 
timid knock, and Ophelia, clad in a clean, neatly 
patched gingham dress, with her hair hanging in 
two smooth plaits down her back, faltered, ‘‘Ma 
wants to know would you like to get milk of us? 
The little heifer has just come in fresh and we’ve 
got plently to sell.” 

“Ma’d ’a’ come herself,” piped up Vinie from 
the rear, “but she’s sick today.” 

“It’s just a headache,” hastily explained 
Tobias, beginning to scowl at the family chatter- 
box, and then heroically smiling instead. 

“She’s lost another customer,” confided Vinie, 
“a wash customer, ’cause her tubs are so rusty, 
and it made her cry.” 


270 


HEART OF GOLD 


“But we’re going to get lier some new tubs,” 
interrupted Antonio excitedly, “and then we can 
come for your do ’es if you want us to. ’ ’ 

“We’ve got seventy cents in our banks,” said 
Augustus shyly. 

“And if you need any wood chopped or piled, 
or carpets beat up, or errands run, we ’ll be glad to 
do it for you — cheap, ’ ’ recited Tobias, in a curious 
singsong voice, as if he had learned the words by 
rote. 

“But what about the milk^” reminded Vinie, 
when the sudden pause which followed had grown 
too oppressive. 

“O!” Mrs. Wood roused to a realization that 
seven eager bodies were listening for her answer. 
What should she say^ Once more her eyes trav- 
elled the length of the line. What a transformation 
had taken place! Each face was polished till it 
fairly glistened in the sun, each pair of bare, 
brown legs was clean and spotless, each fiery red 
head had been brushed till not a hair was out of 
place, and each small figure was clad in stiffly 
starched garments which looked as if they had 
just come from the ironing board. 

As if reading the unspoken question which 
burned on Mrs. Wood’s lips, Tobias informed her, 
“We’ve cleaned up for keeps.” 

“Ma’s going to give us each a penny every week 
that we stay clean so’s not to need more’n one 
waist or dress in that time,” eagerly explained 
Antonio. 

“ ’Cause, you see,” tattled Vinie, “we ain’t 


HEART OF GOLD 


271 


none of us got more’n two, and we’ve got to stay 
clean so folks will buy our milk.” 

‘‘That girl,” lisped Humpy, pointing a stubby 
forefinger at Peace in the doorway, “thaid we 
wuth too dirty.” 

“Oh!” Mrs. Wood was enlightened, and her 
memory flew back to a certain day a few weeks 
before when Peace had told her some unpleasant 
truths which had nevertheless changed the course 
of events in her life. She had called the child 
‘ ‘ rude ’ ’ at that time, but perhaps it was not rude- 
ness after all. It was certainly effective anyway, 
and she smiled amusedly at the neat line of 
McGees. 

Encouraged by the smile, Vinie said coaxingly, 
“She said you’d take milk of us if we wuz clean 
all the time.” 

“And you will, won’t you?” asked Peace, find- 
ing her tongue for the first time since the queer 
little procession had marched up to the door. 

Recalling the usual appearance of the young 
McGees, Mrs. Wood could not help shivering, but 
she must be game. It shamed her to think that 
already this brown-eyed child on crutches had 
more of the true missionary spirit within her than 
she, a woman grown, had ever possessed; so she 
forced a smile to her lips and a sound of hearti- 
ness to her voice, as she answered, “Yes, I will 
take a quart every morning.” 

“And about the wash,” Vinie reminded her, 
when the elated brothers and sisters were about to 
retreat. 


272 


HEART OF GOLD 


‘ ‘ Come for it Mondays as usual, ’ ^ answered Mrs. 
Wood meekly, wondering all the while what had 
taken possession of her that she should give in so 
easily. 

Thank you.’’ Vinie bowed profoundly, and 
to the amazement of the woman on the steps, the 
whole line of McGees stopped abruptly, touched 
their hands to their heads in a truly military 
style, and thundered as one man, ‘‘Thank you!” 

Mrs. Wood beat a hasty retreat with her hand 
over her mouth, but Peace stood thoughtfully 
leaning on her crutches in the doorway as she 
watched their morning callers scatter through the 
wet grass when the gate had clicked behind the 
last one of them. 

So absorbed was she that Gail, who had been a 
silent spectator from behind a curtained window, 
gently asked, “What is the matter, girlie? Is 
anything troubling you ! ’ ’ 

“No — o,” she slowly answered. “I was only 
wishing that the McGees lived in Martindale, so’s 
our Gleaners could make ’em some clothes, like 
we did for Pern and Rivers Dillon. Think of hav- 
ing only two dresses apiece! Mercy! I don’t see 
how folks can expect ’em to keep clean.” 

“Why, our Ladies’ Aid does work of that 
kind,” gasped Mrs. Wood, her laughter forgotten. 
“Why didn’t I think of that before? We have 
lots of good material on hand now to make over, 
and I know the ladies will be glad to do it for 
Mrs. McGee. I will call up Mrs. Jules right away. 


HEART OF GOLD 


273 


She is our President, and the society meets next 
week Thursday/^ 

‘ ‘ 0, dear, ’ ^ sighed Peace. ‘ ‘ We go home in two 
days more. I wish I could stay and help. But 
then I’m glad the kids are going to have some 
decent clothes anyway.” 



CHAPTER XIX 


WONDERFUL TIDINGS 

‘‘Well,’^ sighed Peace blissfully, while Mrs. 
Campbell was helping her dress for Sunday School 
the first Sunday after her return from Fairview, 
‘‘this has been a busy week. There hasn’t been a 
minute to spare, yet it doesn’t seem like this could 
be Sunday already. Where has the time gone to ? ” 

“I sh’d think you would know,” grunted Allee 
from her seat on the rug where she was laboriously 
lacing her shoes. “You have walked your legs 
off, pretty near, — haven’t you?” 

“Mercy, no! I haven’t done half the tramping 
I could have done if these old crutches didn’t make 
walking so slow.” 

Behind her back, the white-haired grandmother 
smiled her amusement, for since Peace’s home- 
coming five days before, the child had not been 
still a minute. From garret to cellar, from garden 
to river, and from one end of the street to the 
other she had hopped, renewing old acquaintance- 
ships, relating her experiences, and thoroughly 
enjoying herself. After her long absence from 
Martindale and the weary months of imprison- 
ment, it was such a wonderful privilege to be able 
to get about again, even if it must be with the aid 
of those two awkward crutches. There were so 


275 


276 


HEART OF GOLD 


many things to tell and so many people to tell 
them to. So the grandmother smiled behind 
Peace’s back, for it seemed to her that no one 
person in perfect trim could have accomplished 
more in those five days than had the brown-eyed 
maid on crutches. 

‘‘I can’t see as they make much difference,” 
Allee persisted. ‘‘You have gone everywhere you 
wanted to, haven’t you!” 

“0, yes, except to St. John’s and of course his 
whole family’s been away on their vacation, so I 
couldn’t see them. I ’xpect they are home now, 
though, ’cause he is to preach at his own church 
today. Grandpa said we’d take thd horses this 
afternoon if it doesn ’t rain and drive up there. It 
don’t look much like rain now, does it, though it 
did when we first got up. I do hope it won’t, — not 
until we’ve got started too far to turn back any- 
way. I want to see Aunt Pen, too. My! I can 
hardly wait for afternoon to get here. It has been 
such a long time since I’ve seien them all. Bessie 
is ’most a year old now, ain’t she? She won’t 
know me, and I s’pose likely even Glen has for- 
gotten. I telephoned three times yesterday in 
hopes they would be home, but no one answered, 
so I guess they didn’t get back till night.” 

“Have you ’phoned them yet this morning?” 
asked Allee, whisking into the counterpart of 
Peace’s freshly starched dress, and backing up to 
Mrs. Campbell to be buttoned. 

‘ ‘ No, I haven ’t had time. We didn ’t get up real 
early, and breakfast was so late, and Gussie had 


HEART OF GOLD 


277 


such a heap of dishes to wash, ^cause Marie didn’t 
do ’em last night, like she said she would, and Jud 
was fairly purple ’cause his necktie would not tie 
right, and Grandpa couldn’t find some papers he 
needed for Sunday School, and Dr. Dick came to 
take Gail to church, and then I had to get ready 
myself.” 

‘‘And it is time we were going now if we get 
there before the morning se^rvice is out,” sug- 
gested Mrs. Campbell, settling a white, rose- 
wreathed hat on Allee’s golden curls, and reach- 
ing for her own turban, which lay on the dresser 
close by. 

“Then come on. I’m ready,” responded Peace, 
hopping nimbly down the stairway. “Doesn’t it 
seem funny to see me going to Sunday School 
again? What do you s’pose folks will say when I 
hobble in all by myself? Won’t it be great to see 
the s ’prise on Miss Gordon’s face when I go into 
my old class with the rest of the girls? I made Gail 
and Faith and everyone else promise not to tell 
her I would be there today. I want to s ’prise her. 
Just smell the roses! They ain’t all gone yet. 
And someone’s been mowing grass! Isn’t it 
perfectly lovely out-of-doors today? Why, there’s 
the church! I’d no idea we were so near. It 
hasn’t changed a bit, has it? But it seems as if 
it was years since I was there last.” 

So Peace chattered blithely on, and Mrs. Camp- 
bell, watching her, felt a great lump rise in her 
throat. Peace, their own laughing, sunshiny, ir- 
repressible Peace had come back to them once 


278 


HEART OF GOLD 


more. It was a song of thanksgiving that her 
heart was singing, yet her eyes were filled with 
tears. 

‘‘There is Myrtie Musgrove!’’ Mrs. Camp- 
bell’s meditations were interrupted by the girl’s 
enthusiastic exclamation, and with a start of sur- 
prise she saw the great stone edifice looming up 
directly in front of them, with scores of spick 
and spandy boys and girls assembled on the 
lawn, waiting for the church service to come to 
a close. 

“And there’s Gertrude Miller and Dorothy Bar- 
tow,” said Allee. “Everyone is out today.” 

“No wonder,” returned Peace. “It’s such a 
lovely day. I don’t see how anyone could stay at 
home. Hello, Myrtie and Nina and Fannie and 
Julia and Rosalie, and oh, everyone 

A chorus of delighted cries greeted her, and im- 
mediately the two sisters were swallowed up by a 
group of excited, clamoring schoolmates, while 
Mrs. Campbell, from the background, watched the 
pretty tableau. 

Suddenly the strains of the Doxology rolled out 
on the summer air through the open church win- 
dows, followed by a brief silence, and then the 
great doors swung open and the motley congre- 
gation thronged out into the sunshine. 

“Church is over,” said Peace, as she saw the 
people hurrying past. “Let’s go inside.” 

“0, Peace,” cried an eager voice at her elbow, 
as she climbed the stone steps to the vestibule, 
“Miss Gordon told me to give this to you — ” 


HEART OP GOLD 


279 


‘‘How^d she know I would be here?^' demanded 
Peace aggressively. 

^‘Why, Dr. Shumway told us — 

‘‘I might have known someone would squeal/^ 
was the irritated reply. ‘‘Men folks are worse 
than women about gabbling. They never can keep 
their mouths shut. I wanted to s ’prise the people 
myself. ’ ’ 

Miss Gordon’s message-bearer drew back some- 
what* disconcerted by her reception. But the cloud 
on the small face, growing rosy and round once 
more, abruptly lifted, and Peace, with a gleam of 
mischief in her eyes, inquired, “Did he teH you 
his secret, too!” 

“What secret! No, you tell us about it,” they 
clamored. 

The aisle was almost blocked at that point by 
the tall form of Dickson Shumway, leaning on his 
cane, for his injured limb was none too strong 
yet, and Peace purposely waited till she was di- 
rectly behind him, when she said in a shrill, high 
voice, which made everyone look and listen, 
‘ ‘ Why, Dr. Shumway is going to marry my sister 
Gail as soon as ever he can get her to settle the 
day. Now will you give away any more of my 
secrets. Dr. Dick f ’ ’ For at the sound of her voice 
the young giant had turned a startled face toward 
the delighted crowd at the door, but a burst of 
tempestuous applause drowned whatever he might 
have replied; and Peace, triumphant, slipped past 
him to her seat, while the congregation showered 
him with congratulations. 


280 


HEART OF GOLD 


Not until she had taken her place among her 
classmates did Peace find time to glance at the 
scrap of paper which Miss Gordon’s messenger 
had thrust into her hand, and this is what she 
read: 

‘‘The Handwriting on the Wall.” Dan. 5:25-27. 
Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin. Thou art weighed 
in the balances, and art found wanting.” 

Turning to the girl who had given her the bit 
of writing, she snarled, “You’re trying to April 
Pool me. Miss Gordon never gave you that.” 

“She did, too. It was our Golden Text a few 
weeks ago. Today is Review Sunday, and when 
the superintendent calls on our class you are to 
read what is on that piece of paper.” 

“But I can’t read it,” Peace protested. 

“Why not? It’s perfectly plain writing.” 

“Well, what does it mean, Agnes? I never saw 
such words before. How do you pronounce 
them?” 

Agnes rattled off the text without a glance at 
the paper, and Peace lapsed into indignant silence. 
As if anyone would suppose that she could be- 
lieve such an outrageous thing as that! 

Agnes saw the look of unbelief in the brown 
eyes, and said haughtily, ‘ ‘ If you think I ’m lying, 
ask someone else.” 

“I’m going to, ’ ’ was the frank retort. ‘ ‘ Where 
is Miss Gordon? Ain’t she going to be here 
today?” 

“Yes, but she will be late. She had to go back 
home for something she forgot, and she thought 


HEART OF GOLD 


281 


maybe our class might be called on ^fore she got 
here again. Ours is the third lesson.’’ 

Peace glanced about her. Already the orches- 
tra had begun to play, and she would attract too 
much attention if she left her seat, but she must 
ask someone else what those queer words meant. 
0, there was Faith coming down the aisle. She 
probably would be cross about it, but she would 
know. Peace leaned over the arm of the pew and 
seized her sister’s dress as she passed. Faith 
raised her eyebrows questioningly, but halted long 
enough to say, ‘‘Well?” 

“How do you p’onounce these words!” asked 
the smaller girl, holding out the wrinkled slip; and 
Faith glibly read under her breath, “ ‘Mene, 
Mene, Tekel, Upharsin. Thou art weighed in the 
balances and art found wanting.’ ” 

Peace glared at her witheringly, and snatched 
the paper from her hand. Did everyone take her 
for a fool just because she had been in the hospital 
six months! 

Her glance fell upon the stately figure of Presi- 
dent Campbell, just settling himself comfortably 
in the Bible Class, a few seats in the rear. “He 
won’t lie to me,” she whispered confidently. 
“Nor he won’t joke me, either.” 

Frantically she beckoned to him, but he did 
not see her, and as the music had ceased by this 
time, she caught up her crutches and hobbled back 
to consult him. It seemed as if every eye in the 
house was focused upon her, and her face burned 
hotly as she stumbled down the aisle; but she must 


282 


HEART OF GOLD 


know what those words meant before it came her 
turn to speak, else the whole congregation would 
laugh at her. 

The President took the crumpled slip, and, after 
a hasty survey, whispered slowly, ‘Mene, Mene, 
Tekel, Upharsin. Thou art weighed in the bal- 
ances and art found wanting.^ 

Poor, bewildered Peace crept back to her seat. 
‘ ‘ I don T see any sense to it, ’ ^ she pondered, study- 
ing the cryptic message with puzzled eyes. 
‘‘It must be right, or Grandpa wouldnT have said 
so. Sounds like ‘pickle,’ but it’s spelled with a 
‘ t. ’ It must be ‘ tickle, ’ I guess. ’ ’ 

A sharp nudge from her nearest neighbor’s 
elbow brought her out of her revery with a start. 
The superintendent was calling for the Golden 
Text of Lesson III. 

Peace leaped to her feet, her crutches forgotten, 
and her voice rang clearly through the big room. 
“Minnie, Minnie, tickle the parson. Thou are 
wanted for the balance that is found waiting.” 

There was a moment of intense hush, then a 
ripple of amusement swept over the congregation, 
but before it could break into the threatened roar 
of laughter, the superintendent with rare tact an- 
nounced, “Let us sing Hymn Number 63, ‘Sweet 
Peace, the Gift of God’s Love’.” 

As the notes of the organ swelled through the 
house. Peace sank into her place, apparently over- 
come with confusion and mortification. Im- 
mediately an arm stole gently about her shoulders, 
and a familiar voice whispered comfortingly in 


HEART OP GOLD 


283 


her ear, Never mind, little girl, there is no harm 
done.’’ Miss Gordon, flushed and breathless, had 
slipped into the pew behind her class just in time 
to hear poor Peace’s blunder; and knowing how 
sensitive a child’s heart is, she sought to make 
light of the matter. 

But Peace, scarcely heeding, vaguely asked, 
‘ ‘ Never mind what ? O, their laughing ? I’m used 
to that. I don ’t care. ’ ’ 

But she looked disturbed, distraught, and it 
was very evident to her that she neither saw nor 
heard the rest of the service. Even when the bene- 
diction had been pronounced and hosts of friends 
gathered about her to express their delight at 
her presence with them once more, she seemed 
abstracted and made her escape as soon as she 
could get away. 

This was so unlike harum-scarum Peace that 
her sisters wondered, although they attributed it 
to chagrin over her blunder, and considerately re- 
frained from asking questions. But when they 
had reached home once more, and were gathered 
in the cool library waiting for Gussie’s summons 
to dinner. Peace abruptly burst forth, b’lieve 
I could walk without those old crutches. I stood 
up without ’em this morning when I forgot about 
using them.” 

She glanced defiantly from one face to another, 
as if expecting a storm of protest; but to her great 
surprise, Mrs. Campbell smiled encouragingly at 
she mildly inquired, ‘‘Why don’t you try it, 
dear?” 


284 


HEART OF GOLD 


The crutches fell to the floor with a crash. 
Peace took several halting steps across the room, 
as if afraid to trust herself. The blood flew to 
her pale cheeks, dyeing them crimson, a look of 
wonder, almost alarm, shone in her eyes, her 
breath came in startled gasps, and clasping her 
hands together in rapture, she half whispered, ‘ * I 
can walk, I can WALK! I CAN WALK! My 
legs are all right again! 

Suddenly she let out a scream of wildest exulta- 
tion, seized her hat from the library table where 
she had thrown it, and rushed pell-mell from the 
door. 

‘‘Peace!’’ cried Mrs. Campbell, starting up in 
alarm. 

“0, Peace!” echoed the sisters, giving chase. 

“Stop, Peace!” thundered the President, hur- 
rying after them all. 

“Where are you going?” the whole family de- 
manded. 

“To tell St. John and — ” 

“But we haven’t had dinner yet,” protested 
Gail. 

“It doesn’t matter!” Peace was out of the 
house and down the steps by this time. “I must 
tell St. John!” 

“But childie, Jud hasn’t harnessed the horses.” 

“0, Grandpa, I can^t wait. It will be so long. 
My feet won’t keep still! I can walk! I must tell 
St. John!” Shaking her hat at them as she ran, 
as if to ward them off, she fled down the quiet 
Sunday street, leaving the family hanging in 


HEART OF GOLD 


285 


open-mouthed amazement over the picket fence, 
staring after her. And the last glimpse they 
caught of their transported Peace as she whisked 
around the corner was a pair of lithe, brown-clad 
legs climbing aboard a northbound car. She was 
on her way to tell St. John and Elspeth the 
wonderful tidings. 

Peace could walk again! 

THE END. 


TKe Turner Books 



Betty* the Scribe 


By Lilian Turner 


“BETTY, THE SCRIBE” is an unusual and 
distinctive book in juveniles. 

It is a domestic comedy in which a dreamy 
girl with a great deal of temperament is trying to 
take her dead mother’s place in a house full of 
turbulent children, ranging all the way from her own seven teen-yeapold twin 
brother down to rebellious Nancy of eleven, five-year-old Dick, mischievous 
Pepper of two, and that terrible personage— the New Baby. The family was 
desperately poor, the father a dreamer, the one slipshod servant incapable, the 
home comfortless and cheerless. Betty was full of good resolutions and heroic 
'ntentions, which she carefully wrote out in long duty lists at night and forgot 
the next morning in her fondness for writing. 

A beautiful and dainty elder sister with domestic ability and lofty ideals 
gave up her congenial work as a companion in a luxurious household to bring 
order out of this chaotic situation. Betty goes out to win undying fame as an 
author and fails. 

“The two types of girlhood — beautiful, precise Dot and rebellious, imagin- 
ative Betty — their trials and successes, are good things for all girls and some 
grown-ups to study. ” — New York Sun. 


i2mo, cloth, illustrated in half-tone, $1.50. 


The Wonder-Child 

By JEthel Turner 

Miss Turner is fast becoming to the world at large 
what Louisa M. Alcott was for a generation past in 
America. In “The Wonder-Child” is visible that same 
touch of the pen which made the author of “Little W om- 
en” so dearly beloved. 

Challis Cameron reveals great musical talent, and so 
everything and everybody in the home is ruthlessly sac- 
rificed that she may be^ educated. Father and family 
are left to lead a precarious existence while mother and 
Challis go to Europe. A good tale, beautifully told. 



i2mo, cloth, illustrated with half-tones, $1.50. 


30 


THE IVY HALL SERIES 

By Ruth Alberta Brown 
TABITHA AT IVY HALL 

Tabitha might have had an uneventful career had her 
surname not been Catt. The target for taunts and gibes, 
how could she escape being a pepperpot! 

The life of a daughter of the plains was tempestuous 
indeed, especially as Tabitha was motherless and under the 
care of her Aunt Maria. She finally rebelled, and whisked 
back to her beloved east. Thereupon Tabitha was trundled 
off to boarding school — and her experiences begin. 

“Tabitha does not seem like a story- 
book girl, but as though she had really 
lived, and this is a great compliment to 
pay her author.”— Dea Moines Capital. 

TABITHA*S GLORY 

September rolls around, and finds Tabitha and her 
schoolmates gathering at Ivy Hall. Trouble comes, how- 
ever, when a poor, crippled girl claims admittance as a 
scholarship pupil. 

The purse-proud students at exclusive Ivy Hall de- 
termine to snub her, and snub her they do — all but Tabitha, 
who remembers her own trying days before her father 
‘^struck it rich.” 

Undaunted, Tabitha champions the lonely Gloriana, and 
when summer vacation comes, she takes her home as her 
adopted sister. 

“With plenty of plot, action and incident, the 
story moves swiftly on.”— Son Jose Herald. 

TAB1THA*S VACATION 

A couple weeks on the wide plains, and then the rest 
of the summer at the seashore; that is the alluring plan 
for Tabitha and Gloriana. But one day Tabitha, im- 
pulsive as ever, volunteers to mother a brood of six lively 
youngsters while the mother accompanies the father to a 
city hospital. A great adventure befalls the young house- 
keepers, and then they are hurried away for a week or two 
of frolic before school opens for Tabitha ^s junior year. 

Each Volume Bound in Cloth, 12mo, Illustrated, $1.25 

Postpaid upon Receipt of Price 

THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY 

AKRON, OHIO 



AT THE LITHE BROWN HOUSE 


PEACE GREENFIELD BOOKS 

By RUTH ALBERTA BROWN 

Author of 

rHA AT Ivy Hall, 

Tabitha’s Glory, 

Tabitha's Vacation, 

The Lilac Lady, Etc. 

Illustrated by M. J. SPERO 


Cuddled among the overhanging trees at the edge of town stood the 
little brown house that sheltered the six orphaned Greenfield girls. 

One afternoon in the absence of the older girls, Peace — resourceful, 
impetuous, lovable, madcap Peace — decided to serve rice and milk for their 
frugal supper. 

On went cup after cup of rice, and then out she hurried to milk the 
cow. But Bossy objected to being pulled like a bell-rope, and raced out 
of the stable, never stopping until she stumbled over the stone watering- 
trough, one leg doubled under her. The town butcher soon put her out of 
her misery, and frantic Peace raced back to her kitchen. Her rice was 
burning! Hastily she dipped it first into this dish, then into that. Would 
it never stop swelling? 

In the midst of the confusion, there came a stranger to the door. 
He brought order out of the chaos in exchange for his supper — and walked 
away with the last fifteen dollars in the family purse, promising to send 
a cow in exchange! 

How truly penitent poor Peace was, and nobly did she strive to mend 
the family fortunes! Every effort seemingly brought new disaster, until 
her “tramp” proved a good fairy and carried them all off to his comfort- 
able home that lacked nothing but the sunshine the six Greenfield girls 
could put there. 

Bovnd in Cl«th, Illustrated, 12mo, $1^5 



The Saalfield Publishing Company, Akron, Ohio 




i 




